The Wall
by MissThespian
Summary: Edward and Bella live on two different sides of The Wall that seperates men and woman, created by the Volturi. Bella dreams of making it the other side, Edward wishes to merely to survive. Love is nonexistent. And illegal.
1. Prologue

**Hey kids, do you remember this story? No? I'm not surprised. Well, as some of you know, I had started this as a fanfiction, but stopped to make it an original story. The original story is completed, so now, I'm converting it back to a fanfiction, for your enjoyment (or resentment).**

**Enjoy!**

Prologue:

_Seventeen Years Earlier…_

The End

Screams filled the hot air as the flames rose up into the opaque, starless atmosphere. Men dressed in black (a psychotic version of the police force, more deadly in every way possible), were pushing and ripping people apart from one another. Either the people separated willingly, or were killed without question; many suffered the latter fate.

It was _The End_— a horrific day nobody dreamt would ever dawn on the fairly new world.

The wooden poles that had supported the massive, rectangular walls at a low angle, came down and ropes were attached to the supposed top of _The Wall_ (a new creation, made by a superior form of government; a wall to separate men and women from each other, forever) began to be hoisted upward, sending a roar of fury and rebellion amongst the people.

Nobody truly believed that _The Wall_ would go up; it was too inconceivable and much too controversial. But The Council held power over the population, not even the most brilliant of professors could have imagined they possessed. They were a secret society; they had much influence over the people. The quiet force that sprang up like a plague upon the world.

Blood, fire, and cries consumed the night, desperate cries of people dying, cries of people being taken away from their loved ones, cries of exertion, as the men in black, began tugging on the thick ropes, and pulling each section of The Wall upward, one by one.

Wives and husbands, fathers and daughters, mothers and sons, sisters and brothers, all being pulled apart and brought to their designated side. Many people rebelled against this new law that came with the new décor. You don't see those people around anymore.

The scene was chaos, to say it simply. The idea of being separated infuriated and petrified the populace, but the men in black seemed to have no soul. They pulled away children clinging to their parents' necks, as if it were a recreational _sport_. It was as if they were mindless robots (no doubt, a source of pride for The Council).

Isolated, make-shift riots popped up from the people, only to be pathetically taken down with the swing of a sword and the throw of a spear; the revolutionaries were pathetically outnumbered and outgunned. A few went quietly, those that feared for the safety of their loved ones; those are the ones you see around today.

The pain that is associated with The End is excruciating, for those who are old enough to remember it. It is a day that is mourned, and lamented. There is always an unusual chain of events on the anniversary of that day, suicides, insane attempts to go over The Wall, things of that sort.

The women's side is said to be better, more refined, the 'better' side. The men's side is said to be a complete and utter disaster, the 'worse' side.

But neither side is complete without the other, they need each other. Something only people with a sense of right and wrong know, but can do nothing about.

At first, after the Wall went up, the men in black had to guard it with frightening weapons, to block anyone who was crazy enough to try to cross. Nobody dared challenge them; they had certainly branded their mark on the hearts of everyone. They were the most feared in all the land.

Over time, the hype died down, the fate of the people accepted, and slowly, The Wall became a way of life. The ones who are left live as if The Wall had always been. They are mere shells of their former selves.

Nowadays, The Wall is a part of life, sadly; only the people, who dare to dream, can remember the glory of what once was one, great, race.

The human race.


	2. Chapter 1

**Hey kids,**

**Ready? Cool, now buckle your seatbelt, and put on your hard hats :)**

**BY THE WAY: You may not know, that I posted the Prologue before this, so go back and read that first.**

Chapter 1

"Isabella, we must go by Lucinda's to pick up the new curtains for your room." Mother howled at me from downstairs; her nasal voice reverberating off the walls of the house. I breathed out noisily.

I didn't understand why my room always needed redoing and redecorating. My room seemed to be in a constant state of flux. It was just fine to me, Mother should have known by now I didn't lust for material things (then again, something told me my opinion didn't matter too much to her).

That was only one of the countless things Mother and I disagreed upon.

My hand lightly grazed the heavy fabric of my dark blue curtains. I loved them, because they kept any sunlight from entering, letting me sleep in. Mother had a way of constructing things (such as taking a spontaneous trip to Lucinda's) so everything was exactly how she wanted to be. I dreaded the sword constantly over my head, ordering me to be neat and tidy with every aspect of my life. But then, it was all I knew.

My mind drifted off to a subject, I often thought about. In the textbooks, it said that men _never_ had this sort of desire for material things. The women on our side wrote them off as pathetic, dirty, nonintellectual scum, so it made sense that their choices were frowned upon when it came to décor and neatness. I never actually met a man... no one my age had.

Men were frowned upon. Though it escaped me why—I was so young when we were separated. I had no recollection of what men are like. I wished I had been born earlier.

The teachers instilled the belief that men behind The Wall were a disease, germs that should never be unleashed on our fine society. They are said to be peculiar creatures—our same species, yet still the exact opposite of us. It was only seventeen years ago that men were banished from our world. But, how could we live in harmony with them for all those years before? This endless list of conundrums came together to form the giant, messed up, blob that was my life.

The teachers (or anybody old enough to remember for that matter) never breathed a word of what the other side of The Wall really looked like. I didn't understand how we could learn about them, if there were only a few words ever used to describe them. And they weren't kind words either.

When I was younger, when I dared to dream, I used to envision myself going to the other side of the wall and meeting a man. I would ask him numerous questions about his race. When I told my mother of this wish— I received a fresh slap in the face and a scolding.

She said, "Never speak of such sin again Isabella, or there will be hell to pay". And I never did, I was a fast learner.

There was a thing (well not really a thing, it was more of an emotion) called '_love'_, that existed before the split of our worlds. Not like mother/daughter love—it was something that could only be shared between a man and woman. That type of love was unheard of now. I could only imagine what it's like. It was said to be very powerful and everlasting, but of course no one knew just how powerful it was anymore. We are not able to experience it, and the women who had experienced it weren't allowed to talk about it. I had dreamed that—whenever I would make it to the other side—I'd find love. This I never told my mother; I'd gotten smart enough to know that some things are better left unsaid.

Then again, the only time I'd ever heard of love is from The Crazies—if I hadn't listened to their stories, I never would have even fathomed its existence. They were crazy after all, maybe they were lying; it seemed so implausible. This type of love probably didn't even exist.

"Isabella…" Mother called up, impatiently.

_Isabella, Isabella, Isabella_. I loathed my full name; it was so dry. But my mother insisted that just plain _Bella_ was not ladylike. _Ladylike—_bah! Hollow Wood _was_ famous for their ridiculously long names.

Hollow Wood was only one of the colonies on the women's side of The Wall, along with three others that had quite imaginative names.

A colony deep within the desert (about a month's trip) was ironically named 'Icy Rose', with its balmy heat and infinite drought, only an adventurous woman would live there. Surprisingly, it was thoroughly inhabited.

Another lay in the bowels of the coldest of tundras, again, contemptuously named 'Blue Flame', it snowed through most of the year (excluding June and July of course), a strange and exciting concept. Snow was so rare here.

We had four colonies altogether, Hollow Wood represented the deep forests we were nestled in; the trees were tall, and not at all hollow. Clearly irony played a huge role in these names.

Icy Rose was to the east, Blue flame was to the north, Hollow Wood was to the west (we were closest to The Wall), and the last one; Mystic Waters, was named because of the rumors of the water being opaque, almost like milk. It was supposed to be pearly white in color, and when you put your hand in it, it disappeared. Some women saw it as a spiritual symbol; and often went there to find spiritual renewal.

Our world was different than the way it used to be. When I was little, I'd stop and listen to the Crazies while running errands for Mother. I'd sit, just marveling at their tales of what once was our world. A world of unity, where both men and women lived in peace; the old women would talk to anyone who would listen, and I definitely listened. The Hawks never took these women away because everyone knew that they were insane and nothing they said could be trusted. Although I knew this, I was still entranced by the stories.

A beautiful and magical world full of wonder and love; a world where the good times outweighed the bad, and people (not just men or women), but _people _found fulfillment in one another. I've pictured that world, longed for it, and desired it more than Mother desired new fur coats; and that's saying something.

"Isabella, are you _coming_?" Mother's high pitched voice echoed, louder this time; something automatic inside me switched on and I began obediently getting ready.

"Yes Mother, I will be down in a minute." I pulled my obnoxiously bright yellow sundress on, my knee socks high and my preposterously large sunhat on my head. I turned to face the mirror to gaze upon my splendor. I hated the way yellow looked on me, but it made Mother happy so I supposed I would survive.

I stalked out of my room, and made sure my posture was straight and my dress was neat. I sighed once again, the air escaping between my teeth as I pulled my perfectly composed happy face over my true face to hide my disgusted demeanor.

I straggled behind her while she swiftly and skillfully swept her way through the marketplace, completely in her element, holding her head up high (or more correctly, her nose in the air). The sun beat down on the busy streets of the Hollow Wood Square. The sun was high in the sky, indicating it was noon; and the streets were filled to the brim with shoppers and merchants. You could be trampled if you stood still.

We passed, Frieda's Vegetable Shop, alongside Agatha's Beauty Parlor, then Alexandria's Antique Store… the list went on. If there was a remote area of retail you'd never heard of—the Hollow Wood Square had it in its midst.

I felt a hard tug on my arm, as Mother dragged me into Lucinda's little fabric shop. Lucinda was one of Mothers' very good friends, for they had much in common. They were the leaders of the dress making club, and ruled with an iron fist (well as much as you possibly could in a dress making club).

My face brightened significantly, as Lucinda's daughter (and my best friend) Mary Alice Brandon (Alice) backed out of the storage room, carrying a box that all but engulfed her petite figure.

I internally giggled at her stubbornness. She couldn't carry that intimidating box all by herself, but you couldn't tell her that. Her pride was higher on her list of values than her own life.

Alice was complicated to explain, and all but the opposite of me. You know what they say: opposites attract. Her hair was short and went in every direction, and Lucinda resented the fact that her daughter's hair didn't grow as long as mine. It was the color of midnight.

The box teetered to the left, and she lost her footing, her tiny feet slipping and her hands reaching desperately to grab onto something. I laughed taking a few steps, grabbing the side that was falling. The box balanced, and she muttered a 'thank you ma'am', thinking I was someone important.

I cleared my throat and peeked around the side of the box. Waiting for the narrowing of her eyes as she realized I wasn't as important as she'd thought. Shock quickly crossed her features, as she registered my face. She smiled and sighed in relief, and I could even detect a little hint of faux resentment.

She whispered in a low voice, "Oh it's just _you_." I stuck my tongue out in response.

"Hello Isabella." She greeted me louder, for our mothers' benefit.

"Good afternoon Mary, are you well?" I asked politely and perhaps a little mockingly, feeling Mother's presence as her penetrating gaze bore into my back.

"Thank you, and yes I am well." You would never be able to tell she wanted nothing more than to slap me at this moment; she was good at acting (or _lying_). She strained her neck to see past my shoulder. I felt the rush of air passed as Lucinda brought my Mother into the back room to look at the curtains she had picked out. She finally sighed, rolling her eyes dramatically, getting back into her own skin.

"So, you are _well_?" I teased, lamely. She lightly slapped my arm.

"Oh be quiet, _Bella_." We both bent down to pick up the box off the ground.

"Never _Alice._" I stressed her nickname, a fleeting smile crossed her face as I said it, for she rarely heard it, and she, like me, despised our long, formal names. A look of utter mischief lit up in her bright blue eyes.

"You know, the curtains my mother has in store for you are so sheer, it's almost as if you won't have curtains at all." She smiled, as I groaned, falling back into one of her chairs.

"Goodbye sleeping 'till eight."

"Hello Sun." She joked, Alice was never one to think too far ahead, she had her bright moments, but she typically acted upon impulse.

She looked me up and down, a scoff escaped her. _Oh great_, I thought, _what did I do wrong _now_?_

"What?" I questioned, annoyed and slightly self-conscious. Her eyes rolled so far, I could almost see them falling out of their sockets. She took a fistful of my hair and held it up for my appraisal.

"My hair?" I inquired, knowing there was some hidden mistake I'd made.

"I _see_ that, but what I also can see is you didn't brush it properly." She smiled, accusingly, and smugly. I moaned, exasperated.

"And?" I asked mockingly, lifting one eyebrow. She mimicked me to a tee by raising her eyebrow as well.

"_And?_ How many times have I told you that you should take care of what your mother gave you?" She scolded, glaring at my unbrushed locks, before unsuccessfully trying to comb it out.

"A million?" I responded rebelliously, trying gently to push her hand away from my hair, but to no avail. She cared about my hair and my appearance more than I did.

"But your hair is so long, it wouldn't take much effort to take care of, really." She absently combed through my hair with her fingers. I slapped her hand away playfully. She smacked my arm until we fell into a playful fight of little smacks, not hard enough to do harm.

"My hair, my choice." I told her, as she reached once again for my hair, she could only scowl. She sighed and reached for her over-sized purse.

"So, did you finish that one-thousand word essay in history class?" She dug through her bag until she took out a few pieces of paper with elegant script written on it, with the occasional scratched out line and misspelled word.

"Yes, I did thank you very much." I beamed, she groaned.

"I still have around two hundred words left to write, and my brain is completely drained of all information." She inattentively scanned over her paper.

"Try rambling on about certain events, elaborate much more than necessary, like how the women who founded our colony, got our economy started and how we managed to stay afloat when we are so close to The Wall. Miss Stanley made sure to stress that point, so she'll probably take off points if you don't mention it." As I said this, a light bulb seemed to appear above her head.

"Can you tell me again, Bella? I daydreamed in class that day." I quirked an eyebrow, suspiciously, but I didn't argue and continued.

"Remember, a group of five women got together, took control and made our community. They assigned jobs, giving your mother her job as a seamstress for example. They also rationed things. Making sure to send anyone who spoke of the other side to jail for a night with no food or worse…" I added quietly at the end, looking at my shoes. I didn't particularly like the way our colony worked, but it was life.

"Go on", she mumbled, scribbling on the paper furiously.

"Do your own work!" I exclaimed, trying to swallow the bile that had risen in my throat. "You do recall what happened last time you were caught cheating right?" I bemused in a low voice, shivering as the scene unfolded due to the fact that I had been too wimpy to say 'no', to her request to see my paper. Alice gave me an understanding look, obviously recalling the time; the look also held an undertone of her comprehension of my unjust dislike of The Wall.

There was obviously something wrong with me, she saw that too. I guess that's why we stuck together, we were both freaks. We both had a secret dislike for The Wall—that's what was so strange. Everyone loved The Wall, that's just how it went.

But we kept as quiet as possible; the consequence for any sign of disloyalty would result in being thrown in jail.

The jail was said to be torturous. Women went in there strong and either came out a complete mess, or didn't come out at all. It broke you; nobody knew how except for the ones who worked there…and of course the ones who were sent there. Chills ran down my spine. It was a huge building made out of stone (just like everything else here). It was patrolled twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. To the citizens of Hollow Wood, Hell would be a better alternative to jail.

I pushed the gruesome thoughts of that place out of my head and forced myself to read my notes for class.

The scent of Mother's over-bearing perfume filled the room again, and we both stood up, straightening out our skirts, trying to appear decent. She trotted up to me, holding the _yellow_, lace, curtains in her arms, a look of pride and accomplishment clear in her eyes.

"I've got the ones." She said giddily. I however, wanted to puke, just as I was sure Maddy did.

"They're exquisite." I lied through my teeth. Truthfully, I hoped there could be some plausible way for them to be accidentally thrown into the fireplace.

"Come along Isabella." Mother sang exiting the store, into the sunlight of the day, giving a goodbye glance to the only person I have to keep me grounded to this earth. It might have been the heat, but I could have sworn that in the light, the lace winked at me.

**Yeah, I know this is an extremely dry first chapter, but I promise, excitement actually happens :P**

**You guys are cool, and so are reviews. Just planting the idea in your head. Yep. **


	3. Chapter 2

**Howdy there, kids! So, I got some nice messages and reviews thanking me for continuing this story, and I have to say, this story was a long time coming. It's only fair I continue it.**

**I will be updating daily (or every other day)**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 2**

"_Men, (Pronunciation: Meh-eN) are creatures that reside on the other side of The Wall, where they can do no more damage to our great race. They typically have a smaller brain capacity and take longer to mature; this is a problem that we are not faced with, thankfully. They [men] have the instinct to protect the territory of their own, before The End (see page 325) it was said that men had a higher status is society than we, which is one of the many reasons we no longer associate with them._

_Before, both men and women had to associate together in order to reproduce, this is no longer a priority in the continuity of life. At the age of eighteen, one must go to The Care Center to become impregnated to have a daughter in the span of nine months._

_ Men have a high testosterone level in their systems, which make them instinct driven and unable to make intellectual decisions; they fight for dominance over the group. This goes for animals as well, in the animal kingdom, male dominance still reigns supreme (see page 269)."_

Miss Newton finished the passage, with a pleasant smile on her face; we had been reading along with her in the textbook. This passage was awfully long, and I was grateful Miss Newton didn't feel chatty today. I sloppily wrote notes down in my notebook. Miss Newton was brutal when it came to notes, and she never repeated anything twice.

This was how school usually was, full of note-taking and listening. Alice would feign illness at least three times a month just to escape, and she was disturbingly talented at it.

"Would anyone like to read the next paragraph?" I attempted to shrink in my seat, for I dreaded being called upon. Alice raised her hand high up in the air, glowing. I knew she was just doing it because the school had notified Lucinda that her participation was low last week.

"Isabella." She said calmly, everyone gave me death glares for stealing the job; shooting daggers with their eyes.

"Me?" I asked stupidly, hoping she'd change her mind. I knew I was the only Isabella in the class.

"Yes." She answered smugly. I didn't like her when she did this. She purposely called on people who didn't want to be chosen. But it was nothing unusual. I sighed and let my eyes drop to the cursive text.

"_The male anatomy is quite different from our own." _I started, gulping from stage fright._ "Their muscles are typically larger than our own on their arms and legs and sometimes chest; however, they cannot produce milk or give birth to infants." _It felt awkward reading this sentence aloud, but I pushed through._ "However, we need half of the chromosomes from the male for the female to become pregnant (see page 230) this is considered the only fatal flaw in our system_."

"That was superb Isabella, nice job." She praised, and strutted away. I let out a shaky breath. The chiming of the soft bell rang through the room, indicating that class was over. We all stood up, bowed our heads, and curtsied, the practiced way we had to do for each and every teacher.

"Thank you Miss Newton." We all articulated mechanically, Alice and I exchanged a short glance and rolled our eyes.

"You're welcome girls." She dismissed us. I grabbed my bag and marched out of the room next to Alice.

Hollow Wood High School was immense. Sporting a high ceiling made of stained glass in the dining room. It curled up into a dome like room where the stained glass design started and ended, making the room appear larger. The tables were made of heavy, dark wood with intricate designs on the sides (overdone if you ask me). The floors were white tile, and glistened when the sun shone through the ceiling just right. And the worst part was, you were _graded_. You were graded on manners and knowledge of the many different kinds of silverware.

Hawks stood guard at each corner. I never understood why though. We nicknamed the Armed and Ready Officers' appropriately. They wore all black and a utility belt, filled with many unknown and frightening weapons.

The classrooms were all white and glowed from the fresh polishing they received every night. No decorations were in the classrooms, they were said to distract from the learning and development of a young woman. They contained about five tables in each room; about four girls could face the same way and watch the lesson at each. The tables were, of course, white and resplendent.

The corridors were covered with thick red carpet, and yet they felt the need for rugs. I found it odd, but then again, no one cared what I thought about anything (except for Alice). Windows dotted the walls in a random, yet orderly fashion. The windows were tall and clear, with red velvet curtains sheathing them at night.

A statue of the founder of our colony stood proudly in the courtyard. She was the main person that led the other women to prepare our society for a life without men. The statue was made of wrought iron. Her dress was elaborate, and it was adorned with things I never even knew could be on a dress. Then again, she _was_ on the most powerful woman in this colony. Ours was said to be the best school of all four colonies, which is why Mother insisted I attend here.

I floated into Miss Garratt's classroom, lost in my own thoughts, taking my seat at table number one, seat number one.

Miss Garratt sat crumpled on her desk with her eyes staring at something she held in her hand, she held it so tenderly, as if it were her very life. I strained my neck, curiosity getting the better of me; I saw it was a small calendar.

Miss Garratt was a free-spirited woman (something I admired) and I found she was like me in many ways. If I didn't understand something, she knew the exact way to teach it so I understood it. Usually the other teachers, don't bother helping you period, let alone contemplate your learning patterns. "Sink or swim", was what they said.

I watched inquisitively as Miss Garratt stared forlornly at the calendar. I absently opened up my folder, writing something down from the board. The chime of the bell rang and all the other girls filed it, standing very erect. This was the one class I didn't have with Alice, but it was still my favorite classes.

Miss Garratt kept in her own little world.

"Good morning class." She said tiredly, completely out of character for her. She stood up, slumped, and dragged herself to the front of the class. It seemed as if she had aged a hundred years before my eyes, like she was just….tired. Not necessarily in the literal sense.

Something was obviously wrong with her, so I raised my hand. She saw my hand and sighed, putting her head into her hand.

"Yes Isabella?" Her voice came out like a frustrated whisper, as if she had expected such from me.

"Are you feeling alright, ma'am?" I asked carefully, judging from most others' faces, they were thinking precisely the same thing. I felt better having a team of supporters behind me.

"Yes." She answered curtly, indicating she was just the opposite. "Let's just…start with our lesson." Her eyes quite obviously avoided the calendar, after that and I saw why; my heart tugged in agony.

Today was her son's birthday; though it was labeled very carefully. You had to be very cautious when labeling things. However, she had let it slip a few times over the past year, leaving clues to what her calendar signified. He lived on the other side of The Wall (shockingly).

_She must be in such pain_, I reflected, feeling helpless. Though I couldn't understand it, I would never have a son. The hopeless look in her eyes made me want to shrink into myself. Her pained gaze only gave me a glimpse at what she was feeling.

She turned and started writing on the board with chalk; it was a sentence we had to edit for Warm Up. Everyone watched in confusion as she wrote a sentence that shattered any kind of illusion that today would be a normal day.

_The Wall must die, w_as what was flaunting itself up on the board.

A silence fell over the room as she finished, turning to us. Something heavier than silence, for it was already quiet; a tension engulfed us all.

"You know what to do." She walked back to her desk, and plopped down in her chair her head falling into her hands.

I couldn't write the sentence, nobody could. We all just exchanged a bewildered glance to one another. Were we supposed to write this sentence? We couldn't write it, let alone edit it. We could all be sent to jail for writing a sentence like this. I understood her pain but she wasn't being rational.

I had the urge to jump up there and erase it—to save her hide. To save _our_ hides.

"Miss Garratt—" A girl in the back asked timidly; Miss Garratt's head snapped up like the girl had just thrown a rock at her head.

"What?" She spat, her eyes blazing. The girl shrank into her seat, I gawked fearfully.

"Miss Garratt, look what you wrote!" The girl sitting next to me pointed to the board.

Miss Garratt did a double take at the board, her eyes widened in astonishment, as if she was really seeing what she wrote for the first time. She hastily picked up the eraser, and erased the incriminating phrase, a little harder than necessary.

"I'm sorry!" She apologized frantically, analyzing the board, to make sure no traces of the previous phrase still lingered.

Her eyes suddenly blazing with passion as she placed the eraser back down. She looked off into space, seeming to be deep in thought. Her eyes trailed to the date on the calendar.

There was an infinite silence before she spoke once more, and when she did, it seemed like she was really talking for the first time in a million years.

"I can't do this anymore, this is all wrong…" She muttered to herself quietly. After a long breath, she suddenly became animated in her speech. Her voice had held the essence of defeat, like the broken exhalation of a fighter, after the hardest battle of her life.

"Listen to me girls, men are not bad; this…this,"— she motioned to the building around us (or maybe it was broader than that)—"is fake, this whole system is fake. This fantasy that we are able to live on our own, without them is just that—a _fantasy_." She spoke louder and more boisterously. "This might work, now, but after awhile, this system will collapse in on itself, like a cottage without wooden beams to hold it together. It's going to fail, but by that time, things will be too different. A whole new generation of brainwashed kids like this will be born. No one will remember the glory of our former race."

Kids? What phrase was that? I contemplated the meaning, and concluded that it be some kind of slang for children.

She continued to explain, slowly and carefully to us tales of once upon a dream; at first I was guarded and careful with my exuberance and enthusiasm. But slowly, I let that down and openly grinned and sat on the edge of my seat. She moved her hands about her like she was telling the greatest story of all. But, I had deliberately ignored the fact that such a good thing, could not last.

"All, lies—!" The door burst open and slammed against the wall behind with a bang, and a swarm of at least five hawks charged in, taking Miss Garratt by the forearms, and dragging her. My heart raced in surprise and despair. Their threat of coldhearted authority kept me immobilized and silent in my seat, though I wished to help Miss Garratt…or sob. Sobbing sounded more plausible than any form of help.

I couldn't stand up to the Hawks. Nobody could.

"You can't hide this from them forever! They will know the truth!" She screamed, being taken from the room. I watched as the only person who seemed to be on the same page as I was taken away to a horrible fate.

A blanket of complete silence covered us all, we didn't even look at each other, and I stared at where Miss Garratt stood not only a minute ago. The air was heavy, electricity coursed through the stagnant air, the tension rising. I felt my hands begin to shake furiously, my gaze traveled down to watch them have their own seizure; I could do nothing to stop the shivering, and I did not attempt to.

And right then and there, for the first time, I felt my heart really shatter.

I wanted to cry. I really did— I wanted to wail, to sob, to express my loss. But I stayed frozen in my seat. The tears stayed locked up in some place in my mind, behind a door to which I didn't have the key to.

Before we had a chance to even register what happened, an unfamiliar woman suddenly came in the door with a happy smile plastered on her face, seeming to not notice the tension at all. She turned us, her eyes glassy and empty.

"Good morning students," the stranger turned to the board. "I am Miss Merryweather; today we will be working on complex, and compound sentences." She began to write sentences on the board, ones that had to do with rainbows and happiness. It took me a few minutes to get my arm moving again.

Miss Garratt was going to jail; the thought of it almost made me break down. I wished to be alone, to drown myself in sorrow. I treasured that speech so much, it was the truth. I felt it in my soul. Now this…Miss _Merryweather_ came in and acted like nothing had occurred at all. I dearly wished to turn back time, back to that speech, back to when things finally made sense to me.

I could only stare and try to figure out our new teacher. My heart rose to my throat, I prayed she wouldn't call on me for anything, because I wouldn't have been able to speak. She seemed like she wasn't even alive. Programmed. _Fake_. A small squeak escaped from me as I remembered the word.

I felt my hand rise as a reaction to my thoughts, going against my previous one.

"Yes Isabella?" She asked warmly. I sat momentarily flabbergasted, unable to speak, my brain tried to work through it. She knew my name. How? How could she possibly know my name?

"Um…what happened to Miss Garratt?" Ignoring the disturbing thought; speaking felt wrong, it felt eerie talking in such a laid back tone, when we had a stranger harboring our classroom, I got wide eyed looks from my classmates. Her perfectly composed façade didn't falter a bit.

"They are going to help Miss Garratt, she'll be alright soon, she will be moving to the Icy Rose colony." She concluded with an absent look in her clear, shallow eyes. I nodded vaguely, not really absorbing what she had said, I knew it was a lie.

I had to believe she would be fine, she _had_ to be. With her swiftly being taken away like that, I'd never felt more alone in the world. Throughout my time with her, I'd gathered enough about her to know she didn't quit and wasn't easily broken. The hideous image of what lay in the future for the closest thing to a role model, brought me closer to the tears I so badly wanted to let out.

Going through the rest of the day as a lifeless ghost wasn't a challenge; however, trying to do it with Alice on my case was… well, I might as well have tried to sprout wings and fly to the moon.

"I heard about Miss Garratt, what happened?" Alice asked, excitedly. Rumors spread faster than wildfires in this school. She leapt in front of me, halting my advance, grabbing hold on the top of my shoulders, leaning forward to listen.

We stood, solitary in her mothers' shop, the strain thick in the air as she waited for a wonderful tale to just jump out of my mouth.

As I worked past the block of pain and denial in my mind, I began to form the words to describe the events that went on today. I scanned for anyone who would be watching, though knowing we were alone.

"She snapped," I whispered into her small ear. "She started rambling about how men aren't bad and the school is lying."Her eyes grew wide and horrible realization changed her face entirely. The fun loving, hyper active best friend I knew turned into someone I didn't know. She then opened her mouth to speak, but I wouldn't let her. "And the worst part is…" I looked around once more. "I loved it." I whimpered pathetically.

I loved it, but it was illegal. I felt like the only one who agreed with my teacher.

And, to my deep shock, Alice only proved me right.

Her gasp echoed through the store, her eyes held sudden antipathy and disbelief, taking an involuntary step back, sending the knife of betrayal twisting up my insides. Her eyebrows knit together, grabbing hold of my wrists, boring into my eyes.

"Bella, I love you, you know that, but you can't talk like that. I agree," She only said that to make me feel better. "But it's about survival. I bet Miss Garratt is in jail right now, who knows what she's going through?" The dire truth of her words sent a surge of pure heat through my bones.

"I know." I said softly, trying to work through this wall she put up between us. "But I can't help it, it invigorated me, I felt so many things I never felt before, had so many _thoughts_. I'm telling you I see a lot clearer now." I beamed to space, reliving Miss Garratt's speech, and the way she spoke as if she were breathing for the first time. That was certainly what I felt.

"And that's great." Alice bartered worriedly, her eyes harboring an inferno so bright, that the seriousness she had silenced me. "But getting yourself thrown in jail won't do you any good, if anything you'll come off looking insane." She lowered her voice so only I could hear, although there was nobody else around. I forced my eyes away from her penetrating gaze, down to the wood paneled floor.

As much as I hated to admit it, she was right. I could do nothing to get myself heard, well at least, nothing _beneficial_. I despised the reality of her words. In a way, I reminded myself of the Crazies that sat on the corner, the ones I'd listened to dogmatically. I was just like them.

That's who I was in her eyes; I was just a Crazy to her. The idea brought on incriminating tears pouring over my lids, and I shook my head, trying to deny it. I wasn't crazy. I didn't deserve to be lowered to such a level.

"And what if you were in my place? Would _you_ listen to me?" I challenged, knowing she wouldn't listen to me if it's something she desperately wanted. I had to prove it to her.

"That's different." She murmured with a pleading gaze.

"How?" I pushed. She stared up at me, staring right at me, with the expression of someone in agony.

"Do you think I can tell my secrets to any of these other girls, to my _mother_? Do you think I would be able to tell them anything? Do you think they care about me?" She pushed, the emotion leaking into her voice started to scare me.

I threw my hands up. "So? What does that have to with _anything_?" I shouted, growing more furious and confused by the second. Thankfully Lucinda was with my mother were at their knitting club.

Her face grew red and her teeth clenched, her grip on my wrists tightened possessively, "If_ I_ get put away, that's bad." Tears formed in her eyes, "But if _you_ get put away…" Her voice shook and didn't continue.

For the first time in our lives, she revealed her weakness. All this time I thought she had no weakness, nothing could get to her; I never would have guessed that _I _was her weakness. It seemed so impossible.

All our lives, Alice was always the invincible one, the go getter, the poster child for confidence and self assurance. This was unnerving. I was overwhelmed with flatter, but also with sorrow. Although she was trying to keep me safe, she was stifling me at the same time.

Her begging eyes made guilt washed over me like a crashing wave, dragging me under.

"Oh Alice… I…" I didn't know what to say, I was thunderstruck. Even so, she shushed me.

"Just promise me you won't speak of this again, maybe in a day or two you'll be back to normal." Her voice broke, as she raised the back of her hand to wipe the stray tear.

"But please," I took a significant step closer and pulled her close, I stared into her eyes, trying to transfer my thoughts straight into them. "Alice…I'm not crazy. I'm okay." I muttered, my strength crumbling as my desperation grew. I saw the impact of my words on her, they seemed to weather her a thousand years.

"Please." She begged; her broken and helpless expression made my heart break even more.

"I promise." I breathed, though in the back of my mind, behind a door I was struggling to keep from bursting open, I knew it was a promise that I could never keep.

** Yes? No? Maybe so? **


	4. Chapter 3

**I quite enjoy the marvelous reviews I receive—keep 'em coming!**

**You guys ask very specific and intriguing questions, but alas, I cannot answer them without giving away the plot twists; so although it elates me that you're wondering such things, I won't be answering them :( **

**Chapter 3**

The heavy curtain of darkness that hung over my mind was both condemning, and comforting. For one thing, I was alone, I could let go. It was tranquil solidarity.

On the other more frightening hand, I was _alone_; nobody was here with me. The loneliness went from content solidarity to a choking isolation. Yet, I couldn't find the strength within me to look for a way out. The darkness was infinite in itself; it seemed like a pointless mission.

I heard nothing, saw nothing, and felt nothing; I hadn't known what to make of it.

With a sudden burst of light, the nothingness was illuminated with a heavenly stream of golden light. After a few infinite moments of confusion, I realized that the light was coming from my window.

A dream; of course, it always was.

This was no random dream; I had it almost every night. Each evening, I would crawl in my bed, and tell myself the dream would not haunt me tonight. But every night, it did. It always returned. Most people had dreams about their lives, their friends, their family, their desires, their fears; but I never did.

Perhaps my mind just wasn't creative enough to find any of significance in my life to dream about.

_Or maybe_, I pondered jokingly, _maybe the dream _is_ everything, Maybe the darkness is my fear—my desire, my friend, my life_. My internal joke stopped short, for it seemed too horribly accurate to be funny.

Shaking my head, I pushed the thoughts away, but they were never completely banished. They danced along the borderline of my conscious mind and my subconscious.

Slipping off the high mattress and onto the floor, I caught sight of myself in the long rectangular mirror that hung on my door. My hair was a rat's nest and dark circles were prominent under my eyes; a pang of fear rang up my spine. Mother would have not only a cow, but the whole farm. I imagined Alice's face as she saw I missed brushing my hair; she was the only one of my peers I feared. And I meant that in an endearing way.

I found my legs carrying me to the vanity, and picking up the silver hairbrush, and bringing it to my heavy, thick, mass that I was ashamed to call my hair. But as soon as I was able to focus in on my reflection in the mirror, I had to stop.

Miss Garratt's face took the place of my own in the mirror; images of her expression when she was dragged out that door haunted me like a shadow. Along with Alice's desperate beseeching for me to be quiet, they worked together to bring me into a darker place of despair. Of course I never breathed a word of this to Mother; nothing could be hidden from her if she went looking for it. She could have sensed my real feelings about the speech; I silently prayed.

My gaze flickered to the dress Mother had set out for me; it was big and fluffy. Normally, this would irk me, but now, I couldn't find any reserve of energy left within me to be even remotely upset about it. It was only a minor concern.

I wasn't used to have major things hang over my head. If things went wrong, they were usually small and easily overlooked. But now, this had broken through my barrier. It bothered me in such a way, that I wished I could forget it all, but I knew I couldn't ignore it.

I threw it over my head, stuffing my body into the uncomfortable fabric. After it was on ('_on'_ being an extreme understatement, it was as tight as a glove). I kept my eyes away from the mirror-why torment myself? Beauty was Alice's talent, not mine.

Gently opening the door, I started down the hallway; I let my eyes glance to my mother's door. It wasn't ajar unlike it usually was in the morning in my peripheral vision. How odd.

Burning curiosity coursed through my body, willing my legs forward until I was twisting the doorknob cautiously, with the intention of waking her up. Her curtains weren't almost clear like mine, perhaps I should adjust to waking up before she does, and in fact it may become an advantage.

"Mother?" I called softly, rubbing some sleep from my eyes, looking to her bed. It was made neatly, indicating she was already awake. A flutter of unease settled in the pit of my stomach.

I half ran downstairs to see if she was making breakfast, then I slowed to a nice walk, with the knowledge that if I were to do anything uncivilized, such as running, I'd get an ear full. I glanced through the door into the kitchen and saw a lone piece of heavy folded paper sitting on the island. I took it in my hands and pried it open with the aura of suspense hovering over me.

It read:

_Isabella, _

_I have gone to the market to buy more sugar. We are out. You really should watch your sugar intake. I will monitoring the amount of sugar you put on your meals until I see an improvement. Nobody likes an overweight young lady._

_Sincerely,_

_Renee_

I gently stroked the pen indentions in the paper; she was always reminding me that I wasn't the prettiest or most dazzling girl out there, unlike Alice, who was a goddess in her petite splendor. This was a halfway subtle (haha, _right_) way of telling me I was gaining weight, even though I hadn't noticed anything of the sort. But, of course, I usually didn't.

She always had something to complain about when it came to my appearance. I wasn't even sure she knew when my birthday was. Or cared. She had forgotten the last two… Or purposefully overlooked them. One was accurate, and the other made me feel a little better.

I pushed the thoughts into the back of my mind, back with that first one, and slowly trudged my way back up the stairs, not even caring to fix my posture. The house was beginning to have a nice atmosphere of quiet peacefulness fall over it.

I walked past her room once again; I saw I had forgotten to close the door. Chills ran up my spine as I imagined the lecture I would receive for going into her room. I quickly made my way over to the door. I had my hand on the doorknob when I caught sight of a lone drawer. It was sloppily laid on the floor by the foot of the bed. Odder still.

Curiosity gripped me as I pushed open the door just a little more and stepped closer (looking over my shoulder every few seconds, and warring against my curiosity and my safety) to the drawer, slowly sitting down in front of it and started pulling out its contents. The hairs on the back on my neck stood on end as I kept listening for any sign of life in the house or any shift of air.

Ready to bolt from the room at any moment, my hand searched greedily through the drawer. I let out a small gasp as I felt a tiny cut along the tip of my finger. I yanked out my hand and saw I had gotten a paper cut. Cautiously I let my other hand wander back into the drawer, looking for what caused it.

I pulled out a photograph, it old and yellowing at the edges; a smear of red of the corner showed where I cut my finger. The blood left my face, but not because of the cut.

In the photograph, I could make out a younger, happier looking version of my mother, with a…_man_? I'd never seen one in real life (or in a photograph for that matter), but they've been described to me time and time again. Then there were the old paintings and sketches the Crazies showed me.

He was standing beside her with his arms around her waist and her arms snuggly around his neck. They looked _happy_. In my left hand was a small ring with a simple diamond in the center. I wasn't positive of what it was, though Mother wore jewelry all the time; I wondered why this was locked away in here. It was so pretty. I found myself gently stroking it; the sunlight threw rainbows through it.

I wasn't mad! Mother _must_ have loved him, she had to have. _Please_, I pled into oblivion, a blanket of security fell over me as I realized, I truly wasn't insane. A ball I hadn't even known existed that had formed in the pit of my stomach, began unraveling in a series of even motions; relief.

But, why was she the way she was now? Wouldn't she be against the Hawks, against everything being taught? The woman in the picture and the one I knew weren't the same by any standard. The one in the picture was glowing, joyful, and at the peak of her life. The one I knew was cold, distant, and controlling. What happened to spawn such a change?

I sat back in a comfortable position, out of my old one where I could easily flee if I needed to. I stopped listening for the sounds of footfall— I was too entranced with my new discovery.

Who was that man? I peered closer and saw that mother's stomach was not flat like it is now; it had an almost unnoticeable bump in it. She was always one to stay physically fit; I don't think that would have been any different in the past. Was she pregnant then? Had she gone to The Care Center?

My breathing grew labored as my eyes flickered between these things. My mind raced at lightning speed as the clues fell into place to make a horrible yet beautiful picture in my brain.

She never spoke of him, but I knew he had to be my father. I kept finding my features in his face, his hair color, his height, his nose.

To have a baby they must have loved each other. So Mother was in love with this man? Was she _still_ in love with him? A million and one questions cluttered my brain, like Alice gets when I do that coin behind her ear, trick.

The light reflected off something, big and stone like; I reached in and pulled it out. It was a hand sized heart shaped necklace with a simple red jewel embedded in the center; on the back, it read:

_To Bella, my pride and joy, when you are faced with adversity, make sure to put the pieces together. I love you._

_Love, _

_Daddy_

_I love you_. I couldn't remember the last time I'd heard Mother say that to me. _**I love you**_. I suddenly felt glorious, I felt wanted. I had almost forgotten what the words meant. How could he love me though? He didn't even know me. Was this feeling so strong, that he didn't even need to have met me to love me?

However, that one phrase at the end puzzled me. 'Put the pieces together'; I obviously hadn't inherited a way with words. What did that mean?

A man somewhere who loved me, across the biggest forests, the iciest of lands, the most scalding of deserts, there could be a man, _my father_, who loved me as much as the inscription on the necklace indicated.

A sudden and strong twinge of belonging and love engulfed me. I wasn't alone after all. Someone out there really loved me. I was wanted. I belonged somewhere.

But Mother had kept it from me. Why?

A powerful, white hot, fire burst in my chest, crippling my body. I wasn't able to handle so many different emotions all at once. So much anger, resentment, and at the same time… love? I didn't know how to deal with it all.

An angry grunt came from behind me; I'd recognized that grunt anywhere. Fear crawled up my spine and crept up my neck; along with the tang of red, hot adrenaline. It was like a drug. It boiled in my veins like an omen.

"Isabella, why are you in my things?" Mother's infuriated voice echoed through the stone cottage. But it had something extra, on top of the rage; a twinge of desperation and anxiety perhaps?

She scurried over to where I sat perfectly comfortable, and tried to grab the items from my grasp, but my arms recoiled, despite my better judgment.

"Give, that back to me, it's _mine_." She leaned into me, and grabbed hold my arm, trying to yank it away from my chest; I shut my eyes and fought against her pull. Our individual strength was just about balanced.

Adrenaline raced through me like a convection current. My judgment blurred into a wild disarray of white hot pain. A shift in the air caused me to see just exactly how serious this was. Just a punishment wasn't to suffice with her. The maniacal expression in her eyes showed that this went through the facade she put up. I'd hit a chord long since buried within her.

I was going to pay dearly; I could see it in her eyes. My heartbeat took off like a hummingbird's wings, and my body went into a phase of itself, I rarely visited. The phase that was concerned with merely survival, and nothing else. Not even future consequences.

She kept shoving on me, pressing harder and harder, clawing at my hands to get the items out of them. She was slowly overpowering me, and she was almost on top of me at the moment.

I wildly searched for something that could help. What caught my eye was a long metal rod, heavy and able to pack a punch from the looks of it. This rod was from one of Mother's broken fashion mannequins. Instinct made my brain quickly conjure up a plan that would have me out of this virtually unscathed, in theory. I could hit her over the head with it. I could do so many things to get my revenge and save myself at the same time; kill two birds with one stone.

I was about to reach for it, with blind fury, when a voice boomed in my head. To my severe shock, it was not my conscience that was nagging me.

_Stop, just grab the necklace and get out._

My sightless rage was reined in by an abrupt burst of control, from somewhere I didn't even know existed; a pocket of reserved control and sense in the very back of my brain. An unopened door until now.

The strange voice flushed all traces of fear and uncertainty out of me, and unadulterated self-assurance took its place. I sat up, almost literally feeling a back bone growing, with the necklace firmly in my grasp. I held on so hard, my knuckles started to go numb. I pushed her off me, scrambling to my feet.

"What is this?" I asked, in a tone that was supposed to be intimidating, but it came out with just a stitch of fear. She involuntarily took a step back when she caught on to my tenor. I'd never spoken to her in such a way. She was so used to me being submissive, taking in her words like they were the law, like it was gospel, written in stone.

"What is this?" I repeated, jerking my fist enclosed with the necklace. My voice had raised an octave as nervousness and antagonism electrified every nerve ending in my body.

"That, Isabella, is mine and mine only. You shouldn't have gone snooping through my things. If I weren't your mother, I would say you were a _thief__!_" She spat as coldly as she could muster in the heat of being exposed, to make me falter, make my resolve waver. In fact, it almost did.

"_I'm_ the thief! Then how come the necklace has my name on it?" I asked cornering her. "Mother, you lied to me. For my whole life, you lied to me. You stole from me. This is mine." I let the necklace dangle from in-between my fingers so she would get a clear view. "And I'm taking it back now." I threw the chain over my head and secured it around my neck.

That was a very, very stupid move—but a necessary one.

"Oh no you are not! You give that back to me right now!" She practically snarled, her eyes were crazed as I broke free of my restraints.

"No." I said. Suddenly I felt lighter, as a tremendous, godlike weight had been lifted off my shoulders. "_No_." I repeated more to myself than to anyone else; bliss lifted me up to a new level of ecstasy every time I uttered that single, powerful, word.

"You do _not_ say no to me!" She boomed, scuttling for leverage.

"_No!_"

This was the point where my life took a drastic turn.

Mixed with my control slipping, Miss Garratt's epiphany still bright in my heart, Alice's belief that I should keep dangerous thoughts to myself, and the knowledge that I could have a father, I said something so horrible, so terrible for Mother to hear. She did something I never dreamed of her being able to do.

"I say no to _you_, I say no to _everything!_ Miss Garratt was right! The Wall is evil, pure evil! I will never believe all the lies that have been forced down my throat. All the lies _you_ forced down my throat!" As soon as the words left my lips, I regretted them.

What had I just done? I told myself I would only say that if I was suicidal.

The mysterious voice said only one thing. _Run_.

It was like setting off a timer on a bomb, it was the worst thing my mother could ever hear. It was the one thing that would set her off even more than finding this drawer. Her eyes began boiling, and she looked as if she could have strangled me right there; her teeth clenched.

"Never speak of such blasphemy!" She grabbed onto the top of my dress, and pulled me to her, with much more strength than I ever thought her capable of. For one split second, my confidence, dissolved, and I was truly afraid. I felt the voice in my head, cajoling me to stay calm, and of course, to run.

Another burst of coolness and control flowed into me like a drink of water after walking through a desert, urging me to get away.

It came to me just in time for her to throw me away from her, sending me sailing through the air. In my vision, I caught sight of the hard, dark wood end of Mothers' bed rushing up to meet my skull.

My head hit the wood with an audible crack; my forehead rebounded off of it as if it were made of rubber. The moment was infinite, time froze, and the crack echoed through my mind, while everything else was silent. It was like I had been thrust underwater, all other sounds were muffled besides the crystal clear _crack_.

I hit the floor hard, but not hard enough to take my attention away from the searing pain of my head and on my temple. I tried to lift myself off the ground, but vertigo hit me hard, and my hands and knees shook under my own weight.

I took a sharp intake of breath, before trying to move away from her advances. I had to get out of here, _confidence and control_ would do me no good if I was injured (and trust me, there was no 'if' about it). As I stumbled to my feet, feeling the warmth spread through my hair and down my nose, a vision of Alice appeared in my mind. She stood, with her arms crossed, giving me a disapproving look. She uttered four words. "_I told you so_."

I found myself running, downstairs and away from my personal death sentence.

_Stay Awake. Stay Awake. Stay Awake!_ I chanted to myself like a mantra; I repeated it so many times they didn't even sound like words anymore, just a collection of sounds, I said over and over again.

Impulse drove me to get out. I knew if I stayed to see my punishment, my fate would be far worse than anything my imagination could conjure up. I wouldn't put it past Mother to send me to jail herself, the pure honesty in that thought made me shiver.

Faltering awkwardly out the door and into the busy streets, I focused on the flow of blood continuing to spread through my hair; I was only half aware of the gasps from the others around me, chills of fear chased me, right on my heels. This was the busiest place in the colony, there were Hawks everywhere, and it would only take a few seconds for Mother to explain to them what I'd done. That thought drove me to run harder and faster.

I felt my consciousness slipping as I tripped into an empty alley way; it was wet and slick, a few Crazies sat in the corner, either sleeping or dead. I huffed and puffed, my chest burning, as I drunkenly felt my way around.

Then, I smacked into something. Big. I felt my way across the wall and looked for somewhere—anywhere to hide, to take refuge.

I realized I was at the border. The Wall.

I stared up at the sheer enormity of it. Usually people didn't get too close to The Wall. Hawks didn't patrol it like they used to, but anyone seen lingering by it was typically questioned by Hawks. But there was no one back here to question me. Yet.

Mother's voice came closer and the rims of my visions started going red, then black. I was going to pass out soon, and I couldn't let Mother, or anyone else, have any chance of finding me.

The blackness on the rims of my vision slowly moved inward as a dreamlike feeling started to overtake me.

_Stay awake…_I whispered, slurred, even in my mind.

I reached the enormous chain-linked fence that was perpendicular to The Wall that restricted any entrance to that section of The Wall. It had '_No Trespassing'_ written boldly on the front; my hands felt desperately along it, looking for the small opening Alice had made only a few weeks ago.

"_I wonder what's back there,"_ She'd said, not really expecting to go there. I supposed she just wanted to prove she could if she wanted to. She had taken some of her mother's hedge clippers and made a hole in the fence; I silently thanked her when my fingers locked around a fissure. I pried it open more until I squeeze myself through it.

As I continued to run, and silently hoped the opening was too small for Mother to fit through easily. Or a Hawk. My heart skipped a beat as something abnormal shone along The Wall.

I saw a small, little opening, hidden behind yellow construction tape. It was a hole—an opening in The Wall. Leading to a world just about every girl my age secretly wondered about.

I didn't think of that though. Or of the cost, or where I would be. I just went for it in my mission to stay alive and out of jail.

I pushed the tape aside and crawled through the opening, letting the tape fall behind me. Before I could see if I had been found or not, the black rims had completely overtaken me, and I fell back into my dream.

**I can read your mind, right now.**

_**You: Wow, something's actually happening; geez took her long enough.**_

**Reviews are much appreciated—remember, I update daily!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Lots of you have been asking, "When do we meet Edward?" Well, here you go—enjoy!**

**Chapter**** 4**

A flurry of colors fluttered around in my mind and faces too. But mostly one face. Miss Garratt's face kept coming up, for some odd reason.

Why? What was so important about her face again?

Something told me that there was a great deal of significance in her face, but I couldn't remember. She was my teacher…but since when was that important? My head pounded as if it had its own painful, echoing heartbeat.

I kept on trying to force my eyes open, but I was paralyzed. Which way was up? I couldn't remember that either. The darkness was endless; I looked around for any indication of where I might be. I had a feeling I wasn't in a bed. What could possibly be going on? My dreams weren't usually this disorienting.

I would open my eyes for second, and then I felt nothing but pain. I forced myself to breathe despite the wet pain in my throat. The smell of blood—my own blood—invaded my nose and made its home there. But past the wall of blood, there was another smell. I couldn't put my finger on what it was; it was much too unfamiliar.

Abruptly there was noise or maybe my ears decided to start picking up noise again, a voice keeping me from being completely engulfed in the abyss. It gave me the knowledge that there was something beyond here. I tried following the voice, seeking a way out. The worst part, the voice was not a happy one; telling me there were worse things than this place.

"…_What_ _am I_ _going to do…?" _Was what I caught. Wait, what are they talking about? Could they be talking about _me?_ I felt my hair being brushed aside by something with no temperature, the touch was light and my hair was being pushed behind my ear. I wanted to swat it away.

After awhile I felt my body being lifted up, and my head pounded like a powerful, angry thunderstorm that was driving its way through me. I wanted to beg whatever it was that was carrying me to stop, and set me back down. The pain was so intense, with every little jar of movement the pounding in my head spiked.

I wanted to scream, yet I was too tired to move, my arms felt like lead. Soon a particularly large jar sent my eyes fluttering open in surprise, a scream bubbled up to my lips— but the pain sent me into complete and utter unconsciousness again.

Later, I found myself reduced to begging once more. _Please… don't… I don't want to wake up…_

My head felt like it had been run over by a horse, and then smashed against a rock a dozen times. I wanted to die right there; not caring where I was or how I got there or why I couldn't remember. The constant thumping of my head was sending me into hysterics.

Slowly feeling started to come back, first in my fingertips, then sensitivity steadily made its way back to everywhere else. I felt a blanket over me, wool; I moved my hands about an inch. It was a start. But… where was I? I willed my eyes open, the light pierced through my lids, causing me to shriek. I shut them tightly and wished for the darkness.

_Okay_, I thought humorlessly, _you got your sick joke, now leave me be_.

"You're awake?" A voice asked softly, from right next to me; I froze suspiciously. It was too deep… somewhat off…

_Where _was_ I?_

"Hm?" Was all I could say, pathetically trying to sit up. I felt a hand come down lightly on my shoulder, willing me back down.

"Don't push yourself." Who was this stranger? My senses were coming back, I sat up too fast. Vertigo hit me hard.

"Ow…" I groaned while putting my hand to my head. I felt arms wrap around my shoulders to steady me, and I felt a weird sort of caring warmth run through me. It was strange, so foreign; it reminded me of an electrical current. Usually if I fell or something, Mother would glare at me for embarrassing her and Alice would laugh at my own embarrassment.

I turned around expecting to thank the nice woman who helped me—but no way was that a lady. Even through my still blurred eyes, I could see that.

I turned to see…a _man_…yes I was sure. His bronze hair was wild, and he was muscular (just as the textbooks had described); his piercing green eyes held a sort of guarded worry.

But my physical evaluation ended right there, for overwhelming shock and terrible, gut-wrenching terror took over everything else.

A terrible scream built up in my throat, but all that came out were hollow shrieks; I kicked wildly out of the blanket, feeling my heart beat and thrash against my rib cage. I shut my eyes and threw the blanket at him, trying to put something—anything, between us, and to get myself away.

Realization replaced the worry in his eyes, as I started to scream at the top of my lungs; he leaned forward after me. Pure horror wadded up in my stomach, as my muscles readied to fight him off. But something close to logic told me that I wouldn't be able to do any fighting in my condition.

His hand clamped down on my mouth, I ended up screaming into his palm. I thrashed pitifully, but my wild kicks were only dodged easily by him; I'd never felt so feeble.

I was with a man, in an unfamiliar place. This was bad, very, _very_ bad…. awful even. How could this happen? This had never happened to anyone. It was impossible to cross the barrier of The Wall. How did I get here? How could I possibly be here? It couldn't be true. I had to be dreaming. This had to be a horrible nightmare; there was no other rational explanation.

"This isn't happening to me!" I shouted more to myself, his hand still covering my mouth, my voice cracking and breaking. I sounded like a dying animal when I wailed. He looked like he was concentrating very hard when he was trying to stifle my cries.

Oh what Alice would say, she'd give me an ultimatum so big, I'd have to be institutionalized! In fact, I was sure I had to be institutionalized now. Alice was right, I had gotten crazy enough to the point of hallucinations.

"Shhh!" He whispered vehemently, looking over his shoulder, silencing me, tears pouring out of my eyes. I began to sob into his hand. I gasped in as much air as I could with his hand covering my mouth.

"Get away from me!" I yelled in a high pitched voice that resembled my mothers', only to have it come out as muffled by his hand, once again.

"Do you want to be abducted or something?" He whispered quickly, his eyes boring into mine. My eyebrows knit together in confusion; abducted? Isn't that what he'd already done?

"Then how do you explain how I got _here?_" I spat hoarsely. I cleared my throat and covered my throat with my hand; my ladylike impulses annoyed me to no end at times. He removed his hand, but kept it hovering in the air in case I decided to try shout again.

"I was going to ask you the same thing." He answered in the same tone as I; a new breed of annoyance washed through me toward his tone. Burning curiosity in his eyes, he leaned in closer to me. I gasped and scooted back against the wall.

"Get away from me." I murmured in a low voice, trying to be threatening.

I attempted to gather anything about what happened before I came here, and came up empty. I remembered, reading in Miss Newton's class then…nothing. My breathing came in fast breaths and my hands started to shake—that seemed familiar as well.

_Calm down_. A voice told me in my head, and I jumped from shock. It wasn't _this_ man's voice; I looked around, but we were alone. That was _not_ my conscience either; was I getting a hypothetical audience to my insanity?

"I found you by The Wall, unconscious and bleeding, I wrapped your wound." He pointed with his head to my own, ignoring my mental breakdown. I raised my fingers to rub the soft fabric of gauze wrapping around my head. "I've just been itching to find out your story; you were out of it for quite awhile." He joked at the last part; I scowled as his indisputable ease.

This was so strange, having a man sit there, right in front of me, explaining to me something I can't remember happening. And yet, here was: the gauze, the wet dampness from my blood. I continued to shake; I took the blanket back in my hands and covered myself in it, and used it as an imaginary salvation.

"Hmm." I hummed, not fully believing him. "Then take me back." I ordered him. The resolve in his face faltered.

"Can't." He said, his head tilting to the side. "It's being guarded right now."

Guarded. _Naturally_. "By who?"

"The Volturi's guards—who else? Or do they not have The Volturi on your side?" He asked only half kidding.

"Yes. We do." I replied frigidly.

I bought my knees to my chest took my surroundings with a wary eye. This was a dump of a home, not a full house by any means; like on _my_ side. However, it was filled with little trinkets collected over time to make it a home. It was quaint in its own way, but I still preferred cottages.

I was here. _Really_ here. On the other side, something I'd only dreamt of in my wildest fantasies. Something I never thought possible. With a _man_, nonetheless. I tried to wrap my mind around it, that this was no illusion. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing as long as I remained unharmed.

He seemed taken aback, a little flustered; I wondered why.

Was it because…well this must be the first time he's met a woman before. He must be _completely_ awed by me; our situations were just the same—well not really. I had a bit more weight on my side.

"What's your name?" I asked almost inaudibly, never fully letting my guard down.

"Edward, Edward Cullen." A sly smile broke out over his face. "I would say it was nice to meet you—but I'm still unsure on that one." Fire boiled in my veins; how _dare_ he?

He hesitated for a second before holding his hand out in front of me. The fire was replaced with confusion; I could only look at it dumbly. What was I supposed to do with it?

"Um…" Before, I had practiced what I'd say to a man if I ever met one, but my mind was blank. It was as if all of the dialogue I had made up just didn't suffice for this situation; well I was sure that was it. This was no fairy tale.

"You're supposed to shake it." He enlightened, mockery glowing in his eyes.

"_Why_?" I asked, completely dumbfounded, with just a hint of irritation.

"It's just a way of greeting someone." He said slowly, taking his hand away.

"My name is…" I contemplated, telling him my name was Elizabeth, and there was no reason why not, for I always went by that. A thought popped into my mind; this _Dean_ didn't know me. I could be whomever I wanted. "My name is…Bella." I finished with a proud smile, giving myself an internal pat on the back. He seemed to take notice.

"Okay," He took note of my wide grin with a cocked an eyebrow. "What, do you want a prize or something?" My smile turned down, but he took it a step further. "Yay, she got her name right!" He teased incessantly.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked, feeling a permanent scowl form on my lips.

"What's wrong with _you_?" He replied with a smile.

"Nothing!" I spat back, trying to bring out _something_ in him; anger, maybe? He just sat there casually.

"That's a sign of arrogance." He said calmly. I wadded the blanket in my fists, biting onto it, I screamed in fury. I took a few breathes and continued.

"Alright, let's change the subject for a second—"

"You started it." He grumbled innocently; I groaned and closed my eyes.

"Fine, how about we start with—"

"A '_thank you'_?" He interjected yet again.

"_Excuse_ me?" I laughed. He couldn't be serious!

"Yes. I could have easily left you, bleeding to death, but I brought you here, and I'm making it clear that I have no mal intentions. If I just received a '_thank you'_ I could die happily."His was voice dripping with venom.

This 'Edward' was getting on my nerves _really fast_. Nobody mentioned men could be so…so…completely _infuriating!_ Unfortunately, he had a point.

"Thanks." I mumbled, refusing to meet his gaze.

"No problem, Bella." He chuckled to himself, as if he were sharing a private joke with himself. I always wondered what my name would sound like coming from a man; it was the strangest pitch of bass.

"Do I amuse you?" I intervened.

"Actually, yes." He laughed, much to my embarrassment. "You're funny."

My cheeks grew warm. "I am?"

"Yeah." He took another long look at me. "I'm not going to bite you, you know, you don't have to be scared." He abruptly covered his caring face with a casual mask. "Then again, it's your choice." I just nodded; he caught it in his peripheral vision, and his cheek rose in a smirk.

I blushed again, embarrassed. I supposed if he wanted to do something, he would have already. He didn't seem like he was going to hurt me, his eyes were deep and showed all that he meant. I found no falseness in their depth. Such a strange thing. So far, I wasn't sure if the school was right, or wrong about men.

His eyes unexpectedly became serious as he brought his hand to my head; I squinted my eyes in surprise. To my relief, his touch was light as he felt the gauze that was there.

"We've got to change this out; is that alright?" He asked.

I nearly said no, but school always stressed you had to keep a wound clean at all costs, so I kept my mouth shut. "Will it hurt?" I whispered after a long minute of pretending to contemplate. He quirked an eyebrow, humor leaking back onto his manner.

"Only a little." He reached from a bag behind him, and pulled out a label-less bottle and a ball of gauze, setting them down at his side before bringing both his hands up to my head. He took on a very serious look on his face while he got supplies out of the mysterious black bag.

I wanted to pull back out of reflex; I didn't like being touched in general, let alone by _him_. He then steadily started unwrapping the gauze. As the pressure was relieved, I relaxed, but it a throbbing pain reverberated more freely than before, now that it was uncontained. I let out a groan, pushing back the urge to back away from his touch.

As he started to unwrap some of it that closer to my head, the occasional red dots, turned into deep red splatters on the cloth. I cringed, having no idea I was so injured.

"How's this feel?" He gently pressed two fingers to the side of my head, I clenched my teeth, bracing for pain.

"Fine." I answered nonchalantly when none came. He looked puzzled before he moved his fingers a little closer to the wound and let them hover there.

"How about this?" As his fingers came down on the core of the wound, (it was probably a light touch, but it felt like he picked up a knife and stabbed through it) electric shocks of pure agony went vibrating through my head.

"_Gah!_" I inhaled sharply, giving into temptation and slapping his hand away viciously.

He didn't look surprised or frazzled by my reaction. "Okay…" He pulled out a pad of paper, pretending to write on it. "_'Don't do that again_' got it." Continuing to write on the paper, trying to lighten the now lead heavy mood. I had the urge to crack a smile.

"Alright Bella," My name still felt different coming from him; he pressed his thumbs to my temples. "Does this hurt?" He pressed lightly, a dull aching echoed through my head, but not as intense as the last. The way he was handling this made me feel a little better, as if he were a professional, like he did this every day.

"A little…" I admitted unwillingly.

"Can you remember anything about how you got here?" He questioned, ghosting my temples with his thumbs, barely touching them.

"Um…" I tried pushing for my memory, but it was as if a lock on them. I shoved and pushed to get past it, however it only gave me a bigger headache. "N-no…" I muttered.

I couldn't remember anything. I wake up on the Other Side and I _can't remember anything_. Perfect.

"Ah I suspected so, close your eyes." I shut them without hesitation; I could sense he put a light over my face. "Yeah, your temples are very battered— a simple case of amnesia."

"_Amnesia_?" I had known it was coming, but the fact that it was being said out loud sealed my fate.

"I'm sorry." He muttered passively, obviously concerned with examining the wound and not my initial shock.

"How old are you?" I said, eager to focus on something else. He seemed so knowledgeable about my condition; it was unheard of even on my side for someone who looked as young as he to be so advanced in the medical field.

"Seventeen." He answered absently, still observing my head.

"Oh."

"What?" He tore his trained gaze from my head and fixed his eyes on mine.

"You seemed so much older than I am, you know so much about this…stuff" And _that_ was a sample of my enormous vault of superior terminology.

"I help out at the old hospital sometimes." I lingered on that thought for a few moments; a doctor. That was nice, helping sick people. I couldn't ever do that. I'd probably end up killing them all; I didn't have any talent in healing.

Plus, the fact that my very miniscule knowledge of the male anatomy came from school, only heightened my hypothetical patients' danger to their life; something told me even if I had the knowledge, I still wouldn't be able to keep the aura of professionalism. His vast comprehension on the subject made me feel as insignificant as an ant. I decided to dwell on the elephant in the room once more.

"Ugh, this is so frustrating—I can't remember _anything!_" I exclaimed, remembering that this problem was far worse than any other trivial concerns Edward had orchestrated, and the fate of my made up patients. I grabbed my hair in my fists, in aggravation. It was as if I was dead for the past day, like I hadn't existed at all.

"Hey don't push it," He gently brought my hands away from my hair, making me release my death grip. "Let your memories come back on their own." He ordered; I wrangled in my wild breaths trying to do as he said.

He continued lightly dabbing some of the liquid from the bottle around my wound, leaving a stinging sensation where he left. He began to re-wrap my head after a thorough cleaning. I could only watch as he dexterously and tenderly took care of my wound.

"Thanks." I declared, half way sincere this time; he had gone through so much trouble to care for me for no reason I could see, I believed it was unavoidable. But he still ticked me off.

"As I said before, no problem." He chuckled half-heartedly.

"But _why_ is it no problem?" I pushed; Alice always said I was born, inquisitive.

"It's not like I haven't met a woman before." He stated bluntly.

I gasped bringing my hand to my mouth. "_What_? But woman aren't allowed to cross, its imposs…ible…" I felt incredibly stupid finishing the sentence.

"Yeah, totally impossible." He said sardonically, while taping the end of the gauze securely to my head.

"But—"

"By the way, I meant my Mom. I _did_ have one before, you know." He smirked smartly; that silenced me into awe.

"Do you have some kind of infinite supply of cynical comments?" I spat only half kidding.

"I like to think of it as wit." His face was stern for a split second before he guffawed again.

I didn't reply, for I was too stubborn. Too bad he was too; he waited for an answer for about two minutes, whilst checking my arms and shoulders for bruising he suspected was there. We both refused to be the first to speak; so I coughed loudly, in an attempt to break his concentration. It worked.

"Are you thirsty?" He asked because of my cough.

I was about to decline, but suddenly, my throat was so dry it was all I could think about. I nodded while pressing my fingers to my bone dry throat. He got up and left the room, I felt my throat with my hand.

Something large and metal was caught in my grasp. I looked down at the heavy heart shaped necklace; I was silenced in awe for a moment, it was so…exquisite. I was marveling at it when I flipped it over and read.

_To Bella, my pride and joy, when you are faced with adversity, make sure to put the pieces together. I love you._

_Love, _

_Daddy_

Daddy? I had a '_Daddy'_? How did this even get around my neck?

I groaned in irritation. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't I remember anything? A strange feeling of déjà vu came with the discovery of this necklace, as if I'd done this all before.

I felt I was going to go crazy when the voice came back.

_It will be alright._ It reassured me.

_But why? How? _I asked it, half expecting an answer. And I didn't receive one. That's when I learned that not even the imaginary voices in my head had all the answers.

**I know their characters are OOC, but bear with me people, please. As usual, I will update tomorrow. Reviews are, as they always have been and always will be, much appreciated.**


	6. Chapter 5

**Hey there kiddos, here's the next chapter! Your reviews are amazing, guys, thanks again!**

**Chapter 5**

Edward turned out to be an alright person if one could get past fact that he was probably the smuggest person to ever breathe air. He told me all about this side, though, and I recalled it with crystal clear clarity.

"There isn't much to tell." He had said hesitantly.

"I still want to know." I replied enthusiastically, feeling a painful smile crawl across my face, a ball of anticipation wound up in my stomach. He sized me up with his eyes, taking note of my every move, and went on to explain.

"Well, my Dad just tells me these stories but, supposedly, when The Wall went up, it was chaos, and lots of riots. Many people died trying to stay with their loved ones. Fathers died clinging to their wives and children, as many mothers died fighting to stay with their husbands and sons. Unfortunately, many children died, just for being at the wrong place at the wrong time." He stopped and started playing with his fingers. "My mom, I don't know what happened to her. She could be dead, I don't know. My Dad still has nightmares of that night, he misses my mom. Real badly." His hair fell in front of his eyes.

"Sorry." I whispered, absently playing with the heavy metal necklace.

He rolled his eyes. "Well, afterward we found Jasper and Emmett—Jas and Em; they're brothers, but not mine. We found them after The…"

"The End." I repeated; he was surprised to hear we had a name for that day, when I was surprised to learn that they _didn't_. They just called it _That Day_.

"The End—it fits. Well, my dad found them alone, and took them in."

"Did you all bond at first sight?" I asked, interested. I had always wanted a sister, but of course it was never meant to be; my mother never went to The Care Center to provide me one.

He laughed boisterously. "No way, in fact, we hated each other those first couple of months." I found myself laughing along with him; peculiar.

"You confuse me." It was meant to come out jokingly, but it came out laced with seriousness.

He quirked an eyebrow. "_I_ confuse _you_? You leave a swath of destructive puzzlement in your path, and I confuse you?"

I was taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"Well, let's just say you're not what I expected."

"What did you _expect_?" I rolled my eyes.

"I wasn't sure _what_ I expected, but you were out for about five hours." I winced at the thought. "I could only watch and observe, which wasn't hard because you didn't do much. I spent my time imagining what you could be like. I came up with the wildest scenarios, some completely unrealistic, and others were so embarrassing, that I will never, ever tell you." He sneered; I added mentally that he wouldn't have to wait long, as far as I was concerned, I was leaving as soon as I could figure out how. "While you were out, I made up a completely impossible vision of how our first conversation would go."

"And how is the real first conversation different from the one you conjured up?" Discomfort flickered in his eyes for a fraction of a second before he turned his head away from me, breaking contact.

"Well, you weren't so spastic and dangerous to my health. Oh and you had manners." My jaw dropped at his blunt rudeness.

"You could be nicer." I spat, indignantly.

"Yeah, but then this little chat would be a lot more boring." He smirked at me.

"Touché."

"So what's the women side like?" He pushed, suddenly turning to me with the same immeasurable enthusiasm, as I had. His eyes lit up with childlike excitement, and his lips spread wide over his teeth to form a perfect smile.

I shifted uncomfortably. "Uh it's very, civilized; most people are very nice and polite to one another—"

"And you're positive you are from there?" He interrupted. "Because you just described the opposite of you."

"You really know how to make someone feel good." He was really starting to get on my nerves. "It's not all rainbows and sugar." I added. He leaned forward, trying to get back into the story. He looked at me, like my word was gospel. I was overcome with a sudden wave of disgust.

"What else?" He breathed, it could have been humorous I supposed if this was a work of fiction. He looked at me the way I used to look at the Crazies who lived on the street. I felt a shiver of delight, along with one of sadness. The term Crazies was derogatory; however, it was what they were known as.

As much as I loved their stories, they couldn't find it within them to adjust to a changing world, so they were sick.

A nauseating tornado of powerful self-repugnance whirled within me. I sounded just like my mother.

"You can be sent to jail for just _talking_ of the women's side in a rebellious way."

"Hm… what goes on in there?" He whispered.

"Nobody knows." I replied emotionlessly, seeing a vision of tormented women in my head, lots of blood. "People get thrown in there, their souls strong and proud, and when they come out, _if_ they come out, they are nothing but hollow shells of whom they once were." It seemed like I was telling some horrible story, like I made it up (that's how it must have sounded); I wished I had made it up. I felt like I was in some kind of dream land, away from the reality of my world.

"I don't think that's the worst part." He muttered completely stoic, his eyes raking up and down my body. I started feeling self-conscious. How could the tone of the conversation have shifted so quickly? Maybe the rumors about men being pigs were true; I prayed not.

"And what is that?" I whispered, my guard coming back up while bringing the blanket back over my shoulders. It was a wasted effort. A blanket wouldn't protect me.

He seemed to concentrate on my body for the longest time, I wanted to do something, slap him maybe kick him, run, cry, anything.

"Do you really have to wear things like _that_ on a daily basis?" Oh; I sighed in relief, and to my surprise, slight irritation. _That_ was an effective way to deflate an ego. I looked down once again at my dress; it was tattered and covered in dirt. It was obvious he'd never seen a dress. Although, his 'pants' and 'shirt' attire still mystified me.

"Yes." Being short with him was my only option to retain some of my dignity, and here I was thinking he was staring at something else; was I really that self-absorbed?

"Wow…" He rested his hand on my shoulder in false pity. I wished to pull away, but his eyes bored into mine, immobilizing me. I sat still, waiting for him to say something."I'm sorry." He uttered completely sincerely. It was probably supposed to be funny, but it was true.

"You _better_ be." I was dead serious too. He however began laughing. A snarl bubbled up my throat.

"So," He started, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. "Does everyone have a heart shaped necklace like that?" He pointed again; "Or is it a tag where so they can find you when you wander off from the pack?" I picked it up, admiring it on my own, ignoring his remark.

"No," I began feigning hurt, trying to mimic his kind of trickery. "This is all I have left of my father." Edward's manner went from joking and victorious, to regretful and sorrow. I repressed an incriminating sneer.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." He pronounced, his eyes full of remorse, I nodded, letting go of the necklace, letting it fall back.

"Your more tolerable when you're not spewing cynical comments every chance you get." I explained calmly, leaning back against the wooden bookshelf I was next to. Comprehension dawned on him.

"You're good." He grinned approvingly. A foreign fleeting feeling of pride spiked up in my heart; all because I gained the approval of a simple man. Actually, I beginning to discover that there was nothing simple about them, at all.

On _this_ side, there were no designated number of colonies, there are just scattered villages with numbers; and when you lived here, you had to go out and scavenge for food. Men died each day for many reasons: bandits, starvation, suicides (which apparently happened more often than expected). He said that right after The End, most men were like a ticking time bomb, the ones who were going to take their own life, died at some point. It was only a matter of time (the thought depressed me) and then there were the murders.

He painted such a gruesome picture of The End in my head, I was grateful I was a woman; I never thought a situation would come up where I would say that.

Edward missed his Mother; I wished I could say the same. Edward said I was horribly uninformed of the male side; I could only pout at that. He was referring to the fact that I haven't even left this house (shack thing), and that I hadn't seen anything yet. I secretly wished not to.

His Dad kept a picture of his mother in his wallet, and as he grew up on this side, Edward would sneak into his wallet and steal it.

"I'd just sit and stare at it for hours, wondering what she was doing at that moment, remembering times we had together; my memory of her faded over time. The memories are almost all gone." Edward had explained, solemnly. Admiration is what warmed me as he spoke of his mother so dearly.

His father sounded nice, though I hadn't met him. I felt like I knew him from what Edward told me; it fascinated me the way he spoke of his father. He always spoke of him with this glint of pride in his eyes, and respect. He ran the hospital along with a dozen other men whom were doctors before The End; he was never home because the hospital make-shift and run down. It can barely stand on its own, the building itself is decaying. Edward saw it as a wasted attempt, but his father wouldn't quit.

"He cares too much about what happens to these guys to see clearly," He continued. "I suppose I have a tendency to look at things from a logical standpoint. That place isn't going to last more than a couple more years—if that even." He shook his head, no longer talking to me.

His brothers were always out and about, doing who knew what, that's why he says it was safe to keep me in their living room for now. Right now they were out on a scavenge that lasted for a few days; they had one of those once a month or so. And sometimes they go on short raids that lasted a few hours.

It was difficult to absorb this as true, it went against anything I was ever taught. This side was so different. Death was rare to me and if there was pain it was from me, for not liking the way things were going in my day.

I complained my life was boring, they complained they're life was harsh. I didn't really have a leg to stand on.

After that, he informed me that Jasper and Emmett would be returning from the scavenge and I needed to get in the basement. I wondered why we couldn't just explain the situation.

"Why can't we tell them?" I questioned; _Edward_ knew about me, did he not trust this brothers?

He sighed and closed his eyes. "It's best we keep this—_you_, low profile, at least for now, and that means the less people who know the better." Finishing with a resigning sigh, his eyes dared me to object, and really I couldn't. Plus, I didn't want to risk his brothers having different opinions on my temporary residency in their home. I wouldn't have been able to handle an argument.

So now, I stared out the window, absorbing the environment that was the men's side in the little time I had. Bums sat on the corners of the streets, which were filled with pitiful looking homes. Edward explained that some of the people who were richer before The End had decent enough homes; I suspected something a little lesser than my own, but to my revelation, there were three story houses.

I watched as the sun disappeared over a different horizon than what I was accustomed to, I was used to watching the sun disappear over the horizon that was The Wall. I never saw it to be very fair, how the sun got to be on both sides, and was never contradicted for it. I held an unjust jealousy for the sun.

The clouds were colored a brilliant mix of pink, orange, and red; I always wondered why that was. Maybe a farewell to the day? Or a greeting to the night? Alice teased me for having these stray thoughts that made almost no sense; a dull aching rang through my heart.

I missed her dearly. Although it had been a day (and five hours according to _someone_), I was empty without her constant snarky input on everything.

In this wild situation, it was nice to be alone for once, though. I had a chance to collect my thoughts for the first time without being carefully observed by a curious eye.

Maybe this wasn't for me, maybe it was accident I came here; or I was almost positive it was an accident, because surely I wouldn't come here on purpose. _Alice_ was the type for adventure, she'd probably fare better in my place.

I longed to be back on my own side, even if this one was intriguing, I didn't belong here. I would go back now if I could remember how I got here, as far as I knew it was impossible to cross.

Which made me think, how did I get here? Did I go over? If so, how? None of the buildings are near tall enough—could I have climbed?

What did I do to achieve the impossible?

Groaning, I grabbed my hair in fury once again at my own brain's refusal to cooperate.

"Stop that," Edward's voice echoed as he walked into the room. "If you open up your wounds, I'm not cleaning up the blood."

"Hi to you too." I greeted dryly. His lips pulled back into a crooked smirk.

"You looked like you were thinking really hard about something, and you were about to have a seizure." He came and sat down beside me, watching the setting sun as well. "Wanna talk about it?" He inquired uncomfortably.

I shook my head, "Not really." Breaking eye contact, and turning my head away.

"Alright." He turned his head in my direction and grew silent, staring out the window as well.

The silence was deafening, but I really didn't feel like I revealing my thoughts. He began to turn away from the window and played with his fingers, letting out little 'hmm's every once in awhile. He'd raise his head for a second, staring off into space, then it'd come back down. I tried to ignore it, but I found myself wondering what he was thinking.

Finally, it was too much.

"What?" I asked, quietly, not looking at him, slowly becoming self-conscious.

"Nothing." He muttered, not looking at me either, a flash of irritation passed through me.

"Come on, you know that's a lie." I sighed defeated, and fixing my gaze back on him.

"Just thinking." He shrugged.

"About what?" I turned my whole torso to face him now, he faced me too.

"This whole '_penny for your thoughts'_ thing is a two way street." He informed me, quirking an eyebrow.

"_Huh_?" What a strange saying, I'd never heard of it (just one _more_ thing about this side that perplexed me). He looked at me in a funny way for a second before closing his eyes.

"Never mind, I meant my thoughts come with a price." He exhaled as he said this, as if he were dealing with a child.

"Such as…"

"_Your_ thoughts."

I shook my head, gaining back my train of thought. "Not worth it." I turned back to the window, feeling a small victorious smile crawl on my face. "Why do you wanna know so badly anyway?"

"I'm hurt." He murmured feigning pain. "I'm just trying to gain knowledge. For the sake of science." And then something serious passed in his emerald eyes. "You're very hard to read." He exhaled, and for some reason, his breath in my face made me lose my train of thought. I was dizzy with some sort of unknown pleasure.

"Fine," I muttered vengefully, praying he'd understand and not be offended. "Well…you see," I stopped myself… would it be safe to tell him about Alice? I sized him up, his eyes unknowing to what I was thinking at that moment. I supposed it couldn't hurt. "I have this friend Alice, and I miss her…I was just thinking about how," I held my breath. "She'd be better in this situation than I."

"How?" He pressed, his eyebrows furrowing, confusion painting his demeanor.

I said looking down at my fingers, beginning to play with them. "I'm not the adventurous one, the one who does things like this." I didn't want to elaborate, but he just wouldn't have that.

"Does things like…" He forced, I wanted to growl in frustration.

"This," I threw my hands out, letting out my wild emotions. "_This_ side, I'm the one who sits at home and knits, while she is spontaneous, and risky. She's the fun one, I'm the boring one. She's everything my Mother wants me to be, her skin is flawless, and her hair is shiny. She's perfect." I finished, Edward was silent. I didn't look at him, and he didn't look at me.

After a minute he said something nobody has ever said to me. "Yeah, you're right."

"What?" I whipped around to face him, I was positive my mix of confusion and curiosity was plain on my face; he still looked out the window.

He spoke again, chuckled. "You're completely right; your friend would definitely do better."

"Hey, I'll have you know that—" I started.

"If you're fishing for sympathy, you might as well give it a rest, that's not what I'm here for." He finished, arrogantly; I grunted, unhappy and humiliated. "I'm here to make sure you don't get yourself killed."

"I'm truly having deep self doubts and you call it 'fishing for sympathy'?" I shrieked, trying to stand my ground.

That brought me to another point; all the times Edward had shown some form of kindness, it was overshadowed by his utter discourtesy.

"That's not the point." His voice had no inflection. "The point is that this is a serious situation, and we can't afford the luxury of self doubt."

I threw my hands up in the air. "And you think this is just a walk in the park for me? I'm sorry but I think I have the shorter end of the stick here."

He turned to me, eyes ablaze. "From what you told me, you've never had wildlife experience; am I correct?" Where was he going with this?

"Yes." I admitted carefully.

"That means you have different ways of surviving on _your_ side than on mine." He leaned closer to emphasize the point. "You're in _my_ world now, honey. And in my world, you have to put in a little effort to make it through the day. As in, if you hesitate, wait, or panic, you die. If you have the time to doubt yourself, you're already too late." He explained as if it were basic math.

"I'm not following you." The crippling bewilderment angered me.

"I'm saying, you have to keep moving and never doubt yourself, to stay alive. To just go on your instincts."

Never doubt yourself? That seemed like an impossible task. "I don't think I'm strong enough for that." I breathed, my venom melting away.

"You don't really know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have." His voice aged, changing from provoking to serious.

"It's harder when you have nothing to be strong for." I mumbled to the floor. I heard shuffling and suddenly he was facing me, his face only a foot away from my own, I couldn't pull away even if my thoughts weren't so jumbled so that I could even imagine wanting to.

"What's the most important thing to you? Who's the most important person in your life?" He asked genuinely, my mind raced. What _was_ the most important thing? Before, I supposed I would have said Alice, but knowing I might have a father and might have an actual purpose, seemed to overshadow her. It made my stomach wretch, I felt like I was betraying her. But I had to be honest with myself.

This necklace has given me a mission, something to look forward to. The father I never had.

Suddenly the idea of running back over to my side like a scared little girl didn't seem so appealing anymore. My heart welled up with the knowledge of purpose…I had a purpose. It sounded better than I ever dreamt.

"I'd say," I displayed the necklace. "Finding my father." I smiled, Edward quirked his eyebrow, contradicting me.

"You seem to be fond of your friend too, as far as I'm concerned, you're allowed to have two important things in your life, or as many as you want." He had picked a piece of metal on the floor and was now spinning it on the window sill. His words were like a breath of fresh air.

"Alright, Alice is important to me too." I acknowledged.

"See, you _do_ have something to be strong for, two even. Look how helpful I can be when you let me." He concluded with a smile. "Sometimes you just make it too easy." It had a kindness to it, not a mean edge.

"What about you? What's the most important thing to _you?_" I asked, turning the tables out of a loss for words.

The smile disappeared from his face. He obviously hadn't been expecting me to counter with the very question he had thrown into the circle. He didn't speak for the longest time; I held my breath.

"My family, the people I love." That one sentence packed so much meaning, so much honesty, I was in awe. His brothers, his father; his mother who was on my side. "I'd die for them." He added. I looked swiftly away from his genuine confession, I never would have been able to admit something as personal as that after knowing him a day.

I wasn't sure if I could say the same for my mother, maybe Alice but that was the closest I'd get to that. It must be nice to love someone so dearly like that, and to be loved. His family was lucky, the people he loved were lucky. He was loyal to what was important to him and would stop at nothing to protect it.

I felt the faint pang of envy deep within my soul, I wasn't sure if was for him, or the ones he would ride to hell for.

Edward seemed to jump when two lights appeared in the distance. "That would be Jas and Em." I would have referred to them as Jasper and Emmett. I only used others' nicknames to those near and dear to me.

"I guess I have to retire to the basement, huh?" I sighed, getting up and pulling the hood of the cloak back over my head, hiding my identity.

"Yeah." He said apologetically, and grabbing a blanket and a pillow and led me to a corridor with a lone, wooden, door at the end. I straggled nervously at the end of the hallway. When he was halfway down it he looked back to see I hadn't followed, he smirked.

"Come on."

He reached out a hand to me; I bit my lip and started marching down the corridor and past his offering hand toward the door. He muttered an 'alrighty then' when I ignored his jester. He caught up to me and opened the door to a steep, dark staircase.

I stopped again; he half laughed half sighed and began pulling me down the stair case in the dark. It amazed me how he could see down here; I was as blind as a bat. After about five seconds I felt Edward stop, I hesitantly felt the ground in front of me with my right foot in case there were more stairs. I felt the roughness of what felt like stone, but different in a way.

"It's concrete." He stated, answering my internal question, how did he know that?

"Oh okay." I truly hadn't the slightest clue what this 'concrete' was but in an attempt to save my pride I pretended to know what it was. I had to keep up an image around here, for as long as I would be here, which hopefully wouldn't be for long.

He guided me to the little cot he'd thrown together; I was blind down in the hot and sticky room that was my temporary home. It was surprisingly comfortable, and I was suddenly very tired. I turned to bid him a goodbye, but I saw the light coming from the door brighten, then disappear completely, barley catching the 'good night' he'd uttered.

Going to the makeshift bed, I turned on my side, shuffling through the new environment in my mind.

Meeting a man hadn't gone how I expected, in the least; in fact I hadn't expected much of anything. But, it had gone better than it could have. Before, Edward had explained that he'd have to tell his father of my existence, for he could keep the secret from his brothers (as long as they remained safely in the dark), but keeping it from his father was a near impossibility. The occasion of meeting him was both something I anticipated, and wished would never come.

Flipping over on my back with a groan, I stared up at the invisible ceiling, trying to make out any kind of shape—coming up unsuccessful.

I began to imagine. Imagine what would it would be like if Edward had been in my place, though I didn't know him well, I got a good read of his personality. He didn't seem too complicated. Despite the many humorous scenarios I had dreamt up, I continued to ignore the only realistic one. The one where Edward gets over walks about three feet, then gets hog tied by the Hawks and dragged by his feet to jail.

I sat up, and beat the pillow with my fist, gradually finding it very flat and uncomfortable. At least I hoped it was a pillow. It was truly sad how lost I was without my sight, I'd die horribly in the wild. My survival skills weren't at their highest peak, as Edward had guessed correctly.

I could vaguely hear the sound of the front door opening and closing once more, and two more male voices. My heart jumped; their voices sounded different, they astonished me almost as much as Edward's had. I supposed I'd have to live with it for now. I secretly prayed I could get back to my side.

What if I never got back? The awfully real possibility danced in my mind, mocking me, taunting me. That couldn't happen; I had to get back _somehow_. I got over once, I could do it again. But _how_? I despised how I couldn't come up with any logical answers to that question; I feared the constant worrying would kill me eventually if the side itself didn't.

I couldn't _live_ on this, side; no, it wasn't feasible. The thought was almost entertaining, if the fact that it could be true hadn't been tormenting me, rotting me from the inside out. I would miss Alice too much, my teachers, my everything. I would be found out, killed, thrown in whatever jail they had here. I now deeply regretted complaining so much about my life on that side; I would take it back now happily. Take it back with open arms.

I still clung to the hope that this was all one big, terrible, nightmare I would wake up from.

Edward's caring face appeared in my mind, the look he gave me when I was blurting my thoughts out to him without my personal consent, the look when he was observing, and thinking. Although he had been hospitable, I would trade it to be back to my life. My side. My world.

Perhaps when I awoke, I'd keep Edward in my memories, even if it turned out he was a figment of my imagination. I wished that were true.

I sat up, once again, and got on my knees, flipping over to lay on my stomach and curling up into a ball. I threw the blanket off my body, due to the clammy heat of the room.

It appeared that I wouldn't be getting any sleep. "Great." I mused to myself.

I was suddenly drowning in a sea of discontent, doubt, and a strange new feeling of ease I didn't even hope to comprehend. I found only one place for the feelings to go.

I began to weep into the flat pillow.

**Any thoughts? Comments? Concerns? Hate rants? I'll take 'em. **

**Taking the idea from my beautiful, and luxurious beta Izzy, I have incentive for you. You will get the rest of this teaser of the next chapter if you review:**

"_**I'm sure you don't want to be here forever." He looked up to me, with an unfathomable expression.**_

"_**Definitely." I answered flatly, wishing him to go on. I was excited by talk of leaving.**_

"_**We can't go out during daylight." He muttered; my heart sank. I'd have to spend a whole other day here, at least. "Plus, your wounds have just started healing."**_

"_**The medical care on my side is just fine thank you." I spat, the image of leaving this side filling my heart with impatience and anxiety. **_

"_**I'm not saying it's not." He responded irritated, his eyes hard. **_

"_**I have to get back to my side." The heart necklace around my neck felt as if it were burning, but I ignored it, refusing to let anything hinder my chances of getting home.**_

"_**I just have one thing to ask." He said, putting his hand to his forehead. I didn't reply, I just stared, waiting. **_

"_**What do you hate about this side? Why do you hate this side so much that you can't spend more than five minutes without going into an emotional breakdown?"**_

_**My heart rose to my throat unable to find an answer.**_


	7. Chapter 6

**Thank you kindly guys, your reviews are great!**

Chapter 6

"Alice, what's wrong?" I pled to her; she was acting very strangely. She had never ignored me before.

"Bella? _Bella_?" She called, a hint of hysteria in her voice looking everywhere except at me, with the most peculiar look of obliviousness in her eyes. Her head whipped around, searching blindly.

"I'm right here!" I tried to scream, but my voice was stolen with the wind. I clasped my hands around my throat in shock, trying to yell out. The vibration of my voice box rang through my throat, but no sound came out.

"Bella?" She crooned, walking away from me now, and, stupid me, I attempted to go after her. My hand was almost to her shoulder when she was gone. She then stood, about fifty feet away, looking once again, anywhere but where I was.

"Bella?" I was about to try to scream again when I realized that her voice, was no longer her voice. It was a deeper, bass-like one.

And as soon as the nightmare had begun, it ended with me staring up at a face I had known for about a day. Edward sat, comfortably by the cot watching my expression, which I was sure was hilarious to him, as I had woken up violently from the dream. I came to the conclusion that this side wasn't a horrendous dream.

"Oh no," I exclaimed, an energized ball of despair winding up in my stomach. "This is real." I whispered to myself shakily, in my own atmosphere of horror, forgetting Edward's existence for a moment.

"Sorry about that." He muttered, venom singeing his words with a hurt undertone. My heart sank a bit.

"I'm sorry." I murmured back, trying to hide the trembling in my voice. The light filled the room from the open basement door, indicating it was light outside. He seemed to be preoccupied with something. I didn't bother to ask what it was; I was too busy trying to soak in reality. It was harder than it sounded.

This was real; very real.

The menacing growling of my stomach pulled us both out of our reveries, I glared down at it. Now was not the time to think about food. The air stirred as Edward swiftly pulled out a bag of various nuts and shriveled up looking things inside; he held it out, his eyes saying, "Take it." He pushed them towards me as I pulled back.

"What is _that?_" I blurted in unintentional disgust. He brought his confused gaze down to the bag.

"It's trail mix." He murmured perplexedly, offering them once more. I hesitantly reached out and took them, bringing them close to my body to inspect. The stuff, '_trail mix'_, appeared horrid, it was all dried out. Who knew what those little withered up things were?

"Those," He turned to the bag and pointed to one of them. "Are dried fruits." He explained in an adult way, glancing to my eyes, making sure I comprehended. I scoffed, taking the bag back from his grasp.

"I knew _that_." I spat. "But why would anyone want to _dry up_ fruit?" I asked curiously, observing and occasionally poking the bag.

"It helps preserve them longer; they don't go bad as fast." I could practically hear his eyes rolling.

Suddenly, the bag was out of my unguarded hands; I gasped, looking back up to see him opening the bag and taking out about a handful of the stuff. He watched my carefully mediated expression as he reached up to bring his hand to his mouth. In one motion, he threw the trail mix into his mouth, and chewed thoughtfully.

"What are you doing?" I muttered, confused.

"Showing you this stuff isn't poisonous, it's okay to eat." He resounded with a sigh, and maybe a slight chuckle. My cheeks burned.

"I knew that, I just didn't want any." I turned my face away, and stared into the darkness. I felt the bed shake as he laughed to himself.

"Then eat it, you need energy." He shoved the bag in front of me. I could only stare at it, revolted.

"Um, that's okay." I laughed nervously, trying to back away. "I'm not hungry." At that point, my stomach decided to roar loud enough so that pretty much this entire side of The Wall could hear. If I could've hit it without causing me excruciating pain, I would have.

"Sure." He glared, pushing the bag forward again. I hesitantly brought my hand away from my body and reached into the bag, grabbing a finger full. I gawked at it in my palm, observing.

I shot another worried glance to Edward; his eyes were stoic. Breaking eye contact, I held my nose and brought the trail mix to my mouth, and chewed on it. Not very hard at first, due to my doubt. After it was in my mouth for a moment, a flurry of saltiness and a strange tanginess danced on my tongue; it was surprisingly, not too terrible.

I swallowed, not looking at him; I glared down at my feet. The silence lasted for an eternity.

"Well alright," He clasped his hands together, and speaking louder, I supposed trying to get the flow of conversation back up and running. "Now that you've had breakfast—or lack thereof," He corrected, his eyebrows knitting together for a split second. "I supposed we can plan."

"Plan?" I inquired.

"I'm sure you don't want to be here forever." He looked up to me, with an unfathomable expression.

"Definitely." I answered flatly, wishing him to go on. I was excited by talk of leaving.

"We can't go out during daylight." He muttered; my heart sank. I'd have to spend a whole other day here, at least. "Plus, your wounds have just started healing."

"The medical care on my side is just fine thank you." I spat, the image of leaving this side filling my heart with impatience and anxiety.

"I'm not saying it's not." He responded irritated, his eyes hard.

"I have to get back to my side." The heart necklace around my neck felt as if it were burning.

"I just have one thing to ask." He said, putting his hand to his forehead. I didn't reply, I just stared, waiting.

"What do you hate about this side? _Why_ do you hate this side so much that you can't spend more than five minutes without going into an emotional breakdown?"

My heart rose to my throat unable to find an answer. Well it was, smelly, and dirty, and chaotic; that was bad. It had to be. I mean, it was absolutely positively pathetic. The men were miserable, they died every day, and they had to scavenge for food. It wasn't ideal for anyone.

And yet, even with all these reasons, I couldn't come out and say I hated it. I tried to sidestep around the trap.

"I never said I _hated it,_ per se—"

"Do you know, how much some guys would _kill_ to get even the smallest glimpse of the other side?" He was suddenly angry, I shrank back, shocked by the sudden passion in his voice. "I'm not sure just how things work on that side, but from what I've observed about you, we're _not that different_."

_Not that different_.

"T-that's not true." I whispered. We were very different. We _were_. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.

"I'm sorry you're so miserable, but you're just being flat out rude now. You're perfectly fine right now; maybe you should slow down and breathe for a second."

Red hot fury pulsed heavily through my veins, "I can't live here!" I yelled, forgetting that his brothers may be upstairs. I closed my mouth, watching his perfectly furious expression.

"Who said anything about that?" He answered, with a hint of shock in his voice.

"But—"

"Look, I'll get you back to your side." He promised, leaning closer. I held my breath. "But you need to think _rationally_. Take a breath, smell the roses, take a crack at thinking for once.

"If this goes on, you'll be exposed in the blink of an eye. And that would be catastrophic. No one else can know you're here. We need to cooperate." He pointed to both of us, trying to get the message across using his hands as well. I didn't answer for a while. I contemplated what he said.

It was true, and what would I say about my disappearance? My amnesia? What would I say when I got back?

Ah. That's what he meant by plan. The shamed blush crept up my neck.

I'd never been spoken to that way, by anyone besides my mother. I wasn't sure if I should have been angry or ashamed, I felt both. What originally stopped me from coming back with a spiteful remark was my own bamboozlement; I wasn't sure if I was angry at him, or myself.

"Plan?" I asked quietly, glancing at him from under my hair.

He let out a relieved breath; it looked like he was expecting me to scream at him. And I should have. I would have. But I didn't, because like he said, we had to cooperate. As much as I hated it, I wasn't going to get to my side if I didn't do as he said.

"Right." He breathed, with a smile following this time. Without my permission, I found myself smiling back.

"Now, what would happen if the ones on your side found out you were here?" He asked, with tight eyes; it was obvious he already had a pretty good idea.

A painful shiver rocked my body as I thought about just what would happen if the Hawks found out…. if _Mother_ knew. A vision of me, being dragged viciously by my arms, in front of my peers, in front of Alice, in front of Mother, being taken straight to jail flashed through my mind. The sheer enormity of the institution, the horrible pain I knew lay behind the secret walls of the jail.

"Do you want to hear my idea?" He asked calmly. "I think it'd be best if you didn't go back until you get your memory back." He said tensely, watching my expression; my eyes widened and my head snapped up to stare at him, dazed.

"What?" I gasped, "How long will that take?" I asked desperately, grabbing hold of his upper arm, his eyes widened and he followed his gaze to where my hand rested.

"You've got to let them come back on their own." A very vague answer much to my dissatisfaction.

"So, you don't know how long." I whispered pathetically, looking into his eyes, praying it wasn't true. He nodded. "Oh…no." My head fell into my hands.

"I think it'd be a better idea because, that injury didn't appear out of thin air, you got it somewhere. And you've certainly got bruising on your arms, indicating some kind of struggle." My eyes trailed to where my arm was exposed, my fingertips grazed the purplish blotches.

"_Something_ happened, and you don't want to go back blind. Plus, if you know exactly what took place, you'll be able to cover up your existence on this side much more efficiently. It will be as if this never happened." I could only nod in agreement; as much as I despised it, he was right. He was logical.

_Because Edward knows everything. _I added cynically, holding back a hard laugh.

I sat with my legs crossed, my head tilted up so I couldn't see him, glaring at nothing. I could hear nothing beyond the angry pulsing in my ears. Who knew when I'd get my memory back? And what _did_ happen to give me my head injury? And it was true; I would never see the light of day ever again if the Hawks knew of my (hopefully brief) stay here.

"So I'm staying." I muttered emotionlessly, feeling different tears streaming down my cheeks. I didn't let him see my face; I covered my eyes with my hair.

"Not for any degree of permanence." He said hopefully, maybe praying that'd brighten my outlook. It didn't. I could read between the lines.

_Yes_. Yes, I was staying here.

My hand began feeling its way across the gauze on my head once more, feeling the soft texture of it. It wasn't as damp as yesterday by any stretch. Perhaps I was getting better, the sooner that happened, the sooner I'd be gone.

"My dad should be home soon." Edward spoke quietly, changing the subject. I froze.

I hoped I'd have more time. Panic crawled up my spine. A flash of self directed irritation flashed through me. That was incredibly stupid. It's just…another man…

I gulped loudly.

"Why is he home so early?" I questioned softly, surprised by my own curiosity. He looked up at me from under hair hanging in his eyes.

"He's not, he worked the night shift at the hospital last night." He said, not meeting my gaze.

"Oh." I found myself murmuring in awe, I stared at him. "Does he do that often?" I gawked.

"Not usually, last night was supposed to be my shift; I didn't show up, for obvious reasons." A weak, guilty smile spread across his face.

It got quiet; too quiet. I didn't want to face the responsibility that was laid out in front of me, to behold.

"Can I go rinse my mouth out?" I asked to break the silence. I despised the dirty taste I had in my mouth from sleeping open mouthed down here in the dusty basement. I covered my lips with my hand, looking away once again.

"Be my guest." He pointed up the stairs; I smiled at the irony of that phrase. "Bathroom is first door on the left."

"The what?" I inquired. The slang here sure was colorful.

He glanced at me in a funny way for about the millionth time in my stay here. "The bathroom, restroom, and the place you do stuff like rinse your mouth out."

"Oh." I faked realization. I stood up out of the cot, rubbing my sore shoulders, and starting up the stairs; feeling his knowing gaze boring into my back. My legs wobbled from lack of use from my time in bed, I kept my hand on the rail cautiously in case I tripped. That would have been astronomically awkward.

Reaching the top of the staircase, a small quilt and old pillow by the door caught my eye. It looked like it'd been slept in. I turned my head to look back at Edward who was bent over, sleepily rubbing his eyes. My heart skipped a beat.

He'd slept here. Why? What could he have possibly gained? My mind spun wildly like a terrifying whirlwind; this man confused me so much. Where all men like this? I felt the insane pang of curiosity lace through me, tightening my stomach; there lived an unsettling aura of bafflement and unpredictability that seemed to hover over me like a permanent omen ever since I awoke on this side.

I uneasily made my way to the door he'd pointed out, and hesitantly turned the rusted, cold doorknob; my mind had been preoccupied, so I hadn't had any expectations as to what I'd see.

Oh, I was an imbecile. A complete an utter imbecile. It was a lavatory, just a lavatory. To think I said such idiotic things, it was plainly simple what this room was now. As if he didn't already think I was almost handicapped already.

I shut the door with a resigned sigh, and turned to the small mirror hanging on the wall over a wooden sink with a small, uninteresting faucet. Of course the lavatories on my side were much more, extravagant, but it didn't bother me much. I had other, much more seemingly impossible and more vital, things to lose sleep over.

My eyes were bloodshot, and my hair was in a series of perfectly chaotic clumps; heavy bags under my eyes were extremely prominent, and I looked sallower than usual. Typically, my skin was very pale, but this was an extreme I'd never encountered; then again, I don't believe I've ever been through something this life changing. I looked absolutely horrid—oh what would Alice would say (or yell)?

I struggled to turn the stubborn faucet head; when it did decide to cooperate, the water ran low and cold. I cupped my hands and dipped it through the icy stream and brought it to my face, letting it into my mouth. After I had spit it back into the sink, I began to experience a dirty taste in my mouth. With a disgusted expression, which I caught sight of in the mirror, I spit more into the sink, trying to banish the taste.

I turned the water back on and splashed on my face and in my eyes, waking me up effectively. The iciness of the cold stung through my pores, making me alert, and sending a shiver down my spine. I sure missed the soft warmth of the nice, clear water streaming from the nice, shiny faucet head. Once I was back home, I would take hour long showers in nice warm water to wash away all memory of the bitterly icy water here.

After going through my morning routine that I usually followed; I found myself saddened by the extreme change of scenery; I missed my side so much. But Edward was, unfortunately, correct so far. If I let my desires get in the way of what was smart, I could die. _Die_. A concept I'd never been confronted with (and frankly, hoped never to be).

A faint light streamed in from the foggy, dirty, glass window; the window was at about chin level, and I couldn't even see out of it.

My feet tiptoed unnecessarily towards it, almost as if I'd be reprimanded. I gathered cloth from my sleeve at my palm and began rubbing a circle, cutting through the grime; it surprisingly came off easily. It wasn't that it wouldn't come off, it was just that nobody had bothered to clean it. The kneejerk reaction I had to clean aggravated me, for cleaning would do nothing but waste time on this side. Oh, did I miss my side. I couldn't wait to get out of this hell.

When I'd gotten down to the dirt that was permanently caked to the glass, I could see what lay outside the home. I gasped audibly.

Huge, powerful trees towered so high, I couldn't see the top from where I was. Certainly not as tall as The Wall (_nothing_ was that tall), but truly the biggest trees I'd ever seen. They had dark, brown and red wood trunks, and the leaves were brilliant green, like shimmering emeralds. The overgrown shrubs that clung to the bases of the trees like a girl to their mothers' skirt were covered with an array of magnificently colored flowers. Colors ranging from bright pink, to deep blue dotted them at random. The best part is that it all glistened with early morning dew.

I'd never thought nature anything too interesting to look at, but this was amazing. The trees stood tall and proud, untouched by time. We had no trees like _this_ in Hollow Wood. Trees were placed here and there—but purely for decorative purposes. These had no purpose other to exist. These stood as a timeless symbol, something left untouched by the Volturi.

I felt a deep pang of envy.

I wondered if we ever had things like this on my side before The Wall went up. My stomach clenched as I thought of these being taken down.

The squeaking of the wooden floors ripped me out of my reverie. His father was back.

Thinking on my feet, or attempting to do so, my brilliant hiding place lay behind the door itself. I leapt behind it, trying to flatten myself against the back wall. My heart pounded through my chest and I clenched my eyes shut. The door was wide open and I had limited breathing room.

The footsteps got closer and closer and closer, as I prayed for my salvation.

"…_What_ are you doing?" I heard a voice; I pried open one eye to see Edward leaning against the wall, arms crossed, with an eyebrow quirked at me.

"Nothing." I said haughtily, clomping out the door, my footfall got harder as I heard his chuckling close behind me. I could have shot flaming fireballs from my eyes if I'd wanted to. Then again he'd probably just laugh.

As I was stomping away, I caught sight of a bent image of my face shone in the reflective, glimmering blade of an intimidating long sword hanging on the wall beside me. It was displayed quite proudly with a few others, some blades were sharp on both sides, and others were only sharp on one side. Some blades were needle-like, and then some were short and sharp. The handles were intricately decorated. Yet, they were still old and weathered by time; they were almost pretty. Almost.

I detected Edward's presence behind me, observing along with me.

"My father likes to collect antique swords," He started calmly, admiration, once again soaking his voice. He reached his hand up from behind me, stroking the handle of the big one. "This one is a classic broad sword," He pointed at one of the swords.

"Yeah," I muttered, watching as his finger stroked the side of it.

"They also had these." His hand moved to one that was slightly smaller, but not by much, that had a wave-like design on the side. "This one is double sided, so you could attack the enemy no matter where they were relative to you." I nodded in fascination.

"And this…" He pointed to the long, needle-like one. "Is a rapier sword, it was used to stab." He explained, I watched, mesmerized.

He continued to give details, but I kept finding it harder and harder to focus on what he was saying. The swords _were_ very nice, but I didn't want to know every single detail down the point. My thoughts wandered aimlessly. Maybe it was a male thing. I just smiled and 'ooh'd and 'ah'd at the appropriate times.

Although the swords were nice looking, I passively wondered why anyone would want to collect weapons. They were destructive and frankly unnecessary; well on _my side_ they were.

"Do all men like to collect weapons?" I asked, as an aside.

A snort came from beside me. "We do have some amount of individuality; stereotypes can be very annoying." I caught him smirk slightly in the corner of my eye, taking the edge off the comment.

"Can I take that as a 'no'?" I retorted, feeling a frail smile crawl on my face.

He rolled his eyes. "Sure."

I laughed and let my eyes wander to the far corner of the room. There sat, in its simplistic glory, something I was familiar with.

"You have a piano?" I asked, overly giddy to finally see something I could identify on this side. I ran over to it, and studied it; I had never played it myself, but I'd always loved the way it sounded.

Edward shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, it was my mother's."

"Do you play?" I asked, running my fingertips across its cool surface.

His cheeks went red. "I do; but I'm not that good."

I turned to him, desperate for a little piece of home. "Could you, play something for me?" I pleaded. I saw his eyes widen, so I tried to save myself. "Just a little bit, nothing too complicated." I begged him with my eyes.

He sucked in a large breath and moved to sit down on the piano seat; he motioned for me to sit next to him. He gave me a side smile before placing his fingers on the keyboard, and his fingers started dancing.

The magic that his fingers produced was like none other; it made me question how other women could call what they did piano playing. Compared to him, the most widely renowned players on my side looked like mere children banging on the keys loudly and crudely. I knew then, no other person's piano playing would ever satisfy me. The amount of emotion and passion he poured into the piano's shiny keys was tremendous and overwhelming. I felt like I was being sucked under a water that I never wanted to come out of for air. His brows knit together in a wise and serious way when he played. Each note touched my heart in places I never thought existed.

When he stopped playing, a part of me wanted to cry.

I looked at him with new eyes. The nagging feeling I had been feeling this whole time, but ignoring, intensified a thousand fold, until I couldn't feel anything but that emotion; though I didn't know what to call it. It was so new, yet so powerful and gripping. When I looked at his grass green eyes, I felt my stomach flutter, my heart rate took off, and my thoughts cluttered into an incoherent mess.

I didn't know what was happening to me.

The sound of the front door opening and shutting made me stiffen, and icy shocks rang through my bones; Edward changed too. His face became worried as we both watched expectantly at the corner the person would surely turn down.

"Go in there for now." He pointed absently back at the lavatory door, I obeyed all too willingly, for I didn't want to spring upon (whom I hoped was) his father. I rushed into the room, as silently as I could. But my mind was clouded at the moment, so I could have made a lot of noise without even knowing it. My breath got shallow, as I pressed my ear up against the wooden door, trying to hear the conversation taking place.

"Hi Dad." I heard Edward's voice say. I caught a glimpse of my own expression in the reflection of the mirror: my eyes were wide, and they had the most fearful look of horror in them. I shut my eyes, trying to banish it. I looked like a pathetic, helpless animal.

I heard footsteps as they left the hallway; I desperately tried to listen closer, wondering why he left. Did he not want me to listen?

Muffled voices echoed through the home, I strained to make out the words.

No matter how hard I pressed my ear to the door, I could only hear the tremors of voices; it went from, calm after a while, then silence, then shock. But no anger, much to my astonishment and relief. Where was the anger?

I desperately listened to every minuscule sound I could pick up, some words like 'what' and 'how' were thrown around quite a few times.

The monotonous ticking of the small clock in the corner rang through my head and was in sync with my heartbeat after awhile; it helped me keep my head—which was a lot more of a challenge than I originally would have thought.

The room started to spin from the suspense, I was waiting for that one, giant, exploding "What?" to echo off the walls of the home. Then the door keeping us apart would fly open and I would be dragged by my ankles out into darkness; the idea made me almost bring the lone chair in this room up against the door, locking me forever in this place.

I shakily leaned against the door with my back to it and sank to the ground, taking a small towel in my hand and ringing it murderously in my clenched hands, absently.

What was going to happen? Edward was nice enough, and we did need to focus, but it was so overwhelming. I felt like a cat being drowned in water; it was almost as if I were a small piece in a giant game being played by someone of a higher authority, and I had stupidly strayed off, throwing everything off balance.

I found myself chewing, gnawing, and ripping at the cloth nervously, and I gathered the strength to bring it away from my teeth's grip. The mad pulsing and thumping in my ears drowned out the obviously very heated words coming from the other side of the door.

His father now knew about me, I could hear it in the tenor of his very masculine voice. I shivered, not being able to decipher one specific emotion in it. Edward must have told him, I couldn't imagine much beyond my mental picture of his fathers' face.

It must have been an angry expression, a frustrated one, disappointed…determined. Determined to do something about my existence here. I knew if his father wanted to do something about it, Edward couldn't help, even if he wanted to. Granted, I may have been belittling him, but— according to him—I had no room for the luxury of doubt.

My erratic thoughts in sync with my heart beat kept me from hearing more than just run together phrases; I prayed that the description of his father Edward expressed to me not too long ago would be at least partly true. That he was kind, compassionate, and forgiving (how I prayed he was forgiving). It was my only hope.

A hard thud came to the door. Not like a knock, more like someone was being pushed up against it. Or blocking it.

I yelped lightly and crawled away, pathetically opening the smaller closet door to hide myself in; I felt like a coward. Alice would have had a long, metal rod appear out of thin air and opened the door, and charged out; I wasn't nearly as brave.

By this time, I'd stifled the sound in my ears enough to make out a little of the conversation.

"_Remember, she's scared, she's still fragile; you probably shouldn't go in there so soon_." An irrational flash of anger came over me; I wasn't _quite_ so helpless. I took in my surroundings once more. _Oh yes, I am quite that helpless_, I thought exasperatedly.

"_You don't know enough about them, she's probably a lot stronger than you think. Step aside son, I can handle this_." I guessed that was his father's voice, I sighed a big breath in relief. But if I hadn't been listening so attentively I could have gotten their voices confused, because they sounded so alike. I used to be told I sounded like Mother, but I never heard it. To me, hers' carried a strong sense of poise and assurance mine lacked.

The sound of the door opening sent a shiver of fear echoing down my spine; the door didn't burst open and hit the back wall, like I'd anticipated. It creaked open slowly, and cautiously. My hand frantically felt its way in the closet for anything I could use to defend myself, my hands felt their way to a box; my hand dug into it blindly, the items inside felt like…well I didn't know. Twisting around, I pulled out a few of its contents.

They were weathered, old, children's toys. In one hand I held a palm sized ball, in the other I found a very strange object. It was like sword; only smaller, and plastic; why would you keep a fake weapon? _I'll never comprehend the mind of a man,_ I mused.

"Hello?" A soft voice, similar to the one I'd heard outside, spoke; a shadow hovered on the other side of the wall, I expected it to come forward, but it stayed in place. I never answered, and clutched the things to chest, preparing to use them as a weapon as needed. "Can you come out?" The man asked again, with the illusion of infinite patience.

"Don't be stupid Bella; he won't hurt you." Edward called from the doorway, disgruntled. He'd clearly wanted to handle this, maybe to show his father his knowledge of me. And how if he asked me to come out, I'd trust him and do so. Maybe he was looking for praise.

Anger pulsed through me again. I leapt out of the closet, not seeing the unfamiliar man next to me with a stunned look on his face. But it was shock aimed at not me, but Edward.

With a flick of my wrist, the ball was out of my hands, and sailing towards Edward's unguarded head, and the ball hit his skull with a satisfying _thud_. He recoiled with a yelp. He covered his head with his hand and looked to his father in amazement as it bounced away and down the hall.

They exchanged a message with their eyes, his fathers' said '_You had it coming_.' Edward let out a huff and stalked away, leaving me alone with this stranger. My anger faded as the realization of my true solidarity here came crashing down upon me. My eyes wandered to the man sitting comfortably on the floor, not making a move toward me.

I froze in place, refusing to look at him; he sat silently, waiting for me to say something. My lips stayed pressed together like they held some kind of death grip.

"Thanks." He said quietly, chuckling to himself. The depth of his voice made me jerk a bit; it was bizarre, hearing such deep versions of a voice.

"For what?" I asked softly, but guardedly; I wasn't sure about him still.

"That boy needs to be hit back sometimes." He said with a quiet laughter, I vaguely wondered what he meant by that.

"He does that often?" I inquired, turning to face him now. I almost gasped; he was nearly an exact, older version of Edward (without his green eyes, though) aside from a few features; his eyes were weathered by time and his face had the first signs of wrinkles, but he still looked like he was full of vitality; his hair was golden and his eyes were piercing blue. His eyes seemed to hold a kindness and wisdom of someone who's lived a thousand lives. I saw why Edward admired him.

"When he doesn't get his way…" He half muttered half chuckled. I could only nod, staring off in the direction he'd stormed off in. I pondered this, the tension was still in my limbs, "But, now that we've got you talking, I have a few questions." He spoke, in a quiet astuteness.

"I don't know how I got here, Edward would know the most; he found me." I answered, still looking after Edward, musing. His demeanor had taken such a big turn; I just about didn't recognize him.

"He told me that already. The human brain truly is an astounding organ; it can take so much suffering, emotion, and knowledge." He murmured, it seemed off topic to me, or possibly, I just didn't understand.

"What does that mean?" I asked, making eye contact now, he looked up from his deep set eyebrows.

"It means all the answers are in your mind, you just have to unlock them." He tapped his own temple, in example. Oh.

"And how could I do that?" I asked, curiously, slipping down to the ground.

"Make sure you don't strain your brain, and coax them out." I groaned, I knew what _that_ meant. The glorious Edward already told me this; this man just prettied it up and made it look fancy.

"So let them come back on their own, huh?" I mocked a little louder than necessary, hoping somehow Edward would hear me, wherever he was.

"As I said, the brain is an amazing organ. In some cases, memory comes back merely minutes after reawaking." He offered, trying to make me feel better, and spoon feed me false hope.

"But _clearly_, that's not the case." I replied, perhaps a little more coldly than I'd anticipated, slowly taking my guard down. The older animosity at myself from earlier rearing its ugly head. I expected some kind of come back for that was what Edward would have done, but of course, I received none, making me feel like an idiot.

I felt him move to stand up like I was, and he made sure not to touch me, for which I was thankful for. "Come; let's go somewhere easier to talk." I nodded numbly and followed him out the room hesitantly. He turned left, and held out his hand in front of me, telling me stop; I stumbled and waited, and looked up questionably.

"Stay here." He commanded, and before I could object, he was moving.

He strode quickly over to the open windows, and shut them each one by one, swiftly and hastily; I pressed my back to the wall. I understood now. I had to hide, hide from the male world. His hands skillfully locked all the windows, and threw heavy blankets over them, sealing out all light, letting no vision in or out. He secured each blanket by nailing them to the wall, I wouldn't be able to look out them again, no one could; they were sealed so carefully.

He stepped over to the giant, ancient, wooden cabinet in the room, and took out about an armful of candles. And, over the span of a minute, I had observed him light each one, and place them around the room so now, it was very dim.

He then, coolly pulled out two chairs surrounding a small, wooden table.

"Come on Edward, you've got to be here for this." He called through the house, in a calm tone; and like magic, Edward walked into the room, with the same face he'd had before, (disgruntled and stifled) only to a slightly lesser degree. His eyes were downcast, perfectly orchestrated to be away from me.

I searched my mind for any way to break the ice between Edward and I. So, smartly, I stuck my tongue out at him to my side as he stood about three feet to my right, and waited for his father to set up the seats. His eyes slid to me, and my joking gesture suddenly seemed like the wrong thing to do. I felt hate in his eyes.

The pressure rose like an electric current, building like a horrible omen.

Then, just as soon as the deadly look had appeared, it vanished with Edward sticking his tongue back at me.

The seriousness of his face when he did it made me laugh; I covered it with my hand. I saw his cheek rise in a smirk in peripheral vision. That was when I filed it away for future reference, that Edward could break any anxiety riddled, tension filled moment; the thought made me giggle once more.

"Come sit here." His father motioned, to one chair. Edward and I both made a move toward it; we stopped and started a face off in unison. His eyes bored into mine, I tried to have the same affect with my own. His tall build loomed over me, he literally had to look down on me, but I stood my ground, nervously. As soon as I thought I was going to break, his father cleared his throat.

"Let me rephrase— Bella, come sit here." He stressed my name; I turned to the seat, throwing one last victorious smirk at Edward's hilariously bewildered expression. I wondered why me though, no one has ever given me a seat over someone else, and certainly not in their own home.

"Thank you, um—"

"Carlisle." He said with a twinkle in his eye.

What? It was terribly improper to refer to someone older than you by their first name; it was considered an enormous sign of disrespect. I only nodded, not comfortable saying it out loud.

"Why?" Edward asked, clearly still distraught about the whole seat thing.

"One being she's a guest and two being you always give a woman your chair if there is only one. Three you were extremely rude, so it's a form of punishment. There, that's three reasons right off the top of my head, you can sit on the floor now." I smiled brightly at Edward, with my head held high; I'd never been stuck up for like that before.

Edward caught my expression, sighed loudly, with defeat evident in his eyes, and plopped on the ground. Carlisle sat in the other chair (It was still uncomfortable saying it in my head), next to me. The sight of Edward, sitting with just his eyes and forehead showing above the table top, directly across from me, was unbelievably funny. His gaze was cold and incredibly displeased, like a child told they couldn't go out to play.

"So," Carlisle started while Edward was still glaring at me. "Let's start from the beginning. Bella, what do you remember?" He asked me. It didn't take me long to answer, I already knew what to say.

"Nothing." I replied shortly. He quirked an eyebrow, I was once again taken aback by the uncanny resemblance they shared, telling me to elaborate on '_nothing'_. "I truly don't remember anything, forgive me." I said in the nicest way I could muster, and lowered my head. He had been so kind (as Edward had, I admitted vengefully), but this man was older. I was to show as much respect as possible.

"Oh stop that," He said with heavy authority. "For one thing, we're not going to get anywhere if you have a filter with your thoughts and emotions, we need to get to the bottom of this, and for another thing, that makes me feel old." He stated bluntly, I grinned anxiously and nodded, hoping it will make him happy. I was uneasy with this casualness with an elder. I just smiled, dumbly.

"Alright then, Edward, tell us about when you found her." In unison, we turned and leaned forward waiting for an answer; Edward sat, peeved, with only the top part of his head showing over the table.

"I was taking my nightly walk by The Wall, when I almost stepped on her unconscious head."His eyes narrowed and his cheek rose in a smirk, at me. "She was bleeding, dying like an animal that had its legs ripped off." He exclaimed, animatedly, just to get under my skin. I snarled under my breath. "So I brought her back, and treated her wounds."

I saw Carlisle, reach behind the table, and put his hand upon Edward's shoulder. "I'm proud of you son." He said with such emotion, I felt I should leave the room. Edward's eyes widened with love as the words sank in. He really admired his father, and this was a big thing. He nodded back, not speaking, and they exchanged a knowing glance. I turned my gaze away.

My heart sank at the sight of them; I found myself deeply yearning for that kind of relationship with Mother. With _anyone_. Someone to look up to, to have someone you want to be just like in the end; I longed for the sensation. The heart necklace burned white hot in my skin, I rested my hand on it, feeling the presence of the strange voice in my head. I was expecting it now; I didn't show any signs of a change. If you were crazy, then you wanted to keep it a secret.

The voice did not utter a word, it was completely silent, yet I felt it there; reassuring me, soothing me. It acted as the hand on _my_ shoulder. I no longer felt alone in this place, and warmth overtook me. Warmth I didn't recognize myself, though I'd just seen it unfolding before me. I wondered what it was called—or even if it had a name.

"Okay, what else?" Carlisle asked.

Edward straightened and spoke with a much more animated tone. "She was out for a while, it was interesting when she rose up out of the grave, but then things went, relatively smooth." We exchanged a humorous look, for we both remembered yesterday's adventure. Or adventure, for _him_, and a mental breakdown for me.

"Ha, _'_relatively smooth'." I snorted, as an aside, I felt both their gazes upon me. It got very quiet as my self-consciousness grew to a treacherous level.

"Moving on," Edward started again, cutting the awkward stillness like a serrated knife. "I don't," He looked to me suddenly. "_We_ don't know how to continue." He corrected, I straightened, enjoying being included in the loop.

An aura of puzzlement enveloped me, what had he meant?

Before now he'd seemed so, in control, so sure of himself. I thought he already had a plan, he seemed like the type. Maybe I didn't really know him very well at all. Honestly, I didn't. I didn't know anybody on this side well enough to do much of anything; I really _was_ alone. The sudden awareness made goose bumps rise on my arms, I didn't know anyone well enough to trust with much. I could possibly be reading too greatly into this, maybe the stress of the situation itself was making me this way.

Or maybe, I was alone; this explanation made more sense.

"First things first, she has to get her memory back." Carlisle stated in a strong way. I was sick of being read _that_ speech.

"I know, I just... didn't know." Edward said stiffly and lowly, keeping his eyes away from me, self doubt plain on his face and in his eye's depths. I leaned forward, puzzled

"Stop doubting yourself, that's a great plan." Carlisle finished, patting Edward's shoulder.

I wanted to slap Edward so hard, he would be the one with amnesia. Mr. You-Must-Never-Doubt-Yourself. Hypocrite.

_Hm_, I mused despite the last thought, _perhaps Edward wasn't as unbreakable as he appeared._

**Reviews are my drug, and you are my dealers, so you know the drill; you review, you get the rest of this teaser:**

_**What I saw in his eyes was guilt. Horribly deep guilt. Though I didn't precisely understand it, and that upset me. My peers were usually so conventional; something in my heart told me this wasn't the behavior for all males. This world would be much different if they were…better? I didn't know. In any case, Edward was obviously not average, for anyone. There wasn't anyone even on my side that matched him completely.**_

_**"Why?" I said softly, feeling all my animosity built up in the last day evaporate into thin air, almost quite literally. He noticed my gaze, and turned away once again, briskly.**_

_**"Nothing." He muttered. **_

_**And as he said this, I felt the strangest sensation, like my heart was, hurting, in the peculiar way. Everything was odd, ever since coming to this side, and meeting this boy, my whole world has flipped. Not in the way you'd expect to. I felt somehow more fragile, more vulnerable. **____**And it was only growing stronger**__**. I hated it. And I didn't comprehend it; it was awful.**_

_**But the point of the matter was Edward had been right all along; we had to work together. I wracked my mind for a way to use that as an angle.**_

_**"Look...Edward," I started, saying his name carefully. "Like you said, we have to work together; and we can't do that if we're hiding things from each other. And your father explained it too; we won't get anywhere if we're filtering our thoughts and feelings."**_


	8. Chapter 7

**I'm sorry to those who all reviewed and didn't receive the rest of the teaser; these last few days have been nothing but hectic. **

Chapter 7

The rest of the conversation went 'relatively smoothly', but we didn't get anywhere. No new ideas, just a repeat of what we all knew by now. Nothing. Just keep me a secret, and cooped up here until my memory decided to come back to me from its little vacation; I sure hoped it was having a good time, because I certainly was not.

After Carlisle went back to the hospital, Edward had offered me a change of clothes; as much as I despised the dress, I found my hands clammed up and froze at the thought of leaving this remnant the other side. I just, couldn't do it; not yet. The 'not yet' part frightened me to the core of my being, for 'never' was more like it.

Edward was expecting his brothers to be home today, thus I was condemned to my personal, purgatory. The _basement,_ with the beautiful and luxurious cot with springs that drove nastily into my back.

So now, I lay there, staring up at the invisible ceiling, lightly touching the cool stone of the heart pendant, for it was the only thing to give myself any sense of temperature in this stuffy, hole. I was way past half dead—I'd hit boredom three days (or at least, I thought) ago, I flew past monotonousness around two days ago, and streaked by absolute impatience, and I was about to come to the point where I would soon start seriously considering offing myself right there. It didn't matter if I had to hold my breath until my head exploded—just as long as it ended.

The pitch black sure didn't help either, I had no reference for time or space; it was similar to my dream, except, it was so much worse I was almost positive there was no number with large enough value to describe the enormity of my utter boredom. I felt I deserved Alice's nickname of Drama Queen because even _I_ could hear how ridiculous I sounded, and this was not normal behavior.

The rats had come a good, long, while ago; I had gotten over my horror towards them (though the little creeps still made me squeal every now and again). I had to adjust, if I screamed, someone would hear, and if someone heard, I would be found and if I were found— my thoughts stopped there and I just bit the inside of my cheek until it bled in my effort to keep silent. The rats were endurable.

Ever since turning down the clothes Edward offered, I regretted it. I stunk so bad I understood why he just kind of threw me down here; I would have too. The dress was torn to a point where there was only an insignificant, dangerous amount of coverage; which only layered the anxiety on top of all else; and it was just plain,_ filthy_.

An insolent, little voice in my head called _Common Sense_ told me I would eventually have to give in and ask for the clothes, but currently, that voice was being strangled to death by another voice I was glad to call my _Pride_. It was all I had left, I had already rejected the clothes, I'd look like a fraud going and asking for them now; plus it would unnecessarily increase Edward's ego, and why would any _sane_ person want to do that?

Besides, how hard could it be to wait this out a little longer? It surely couldn't be _that_ much longer.

Around five years later I gave up on optimism.

My stomach growled, my throat thirsted for the cool sweetness of water (something else I'd taken for granted).

I used to joke on the way to lunch that I was starving. I hadn't the slightest clue was starvation was. How it felt to be truly, ravenous, like I could quite possibly storm up through that door and get some food if this went on any longer.

The door then opened, and a dull light illuminated the doorway. I had no way of telling if it had gotten dark or if the darkness was a result of the blankets. I was about to call up to Edward when he covered his mouth with his finger, telling me to shut up. I clamped my mouth shut, making many angry hand signs to him.

When he had finally decided to get down to the bottom step, I supposed he was being careful not to let the stair creak; he sat next to the cot. I sat there, with my legs crossed, and sweat glazing my face.

"Sorry I took so long—" He started.

"_Sorry__?_" I snarled, quietly. "Oh no big deal, I'll just sit and slowly die while I wait for you to come and save me."

His eye brows came down and he got defensive. "Look, my brothers stayed a little longer than I expected; they _do_ live here you know. I never said this would be easy." He snarled back, using the same tone I had. I didn't say another word.

No matter how completely, furious I was, I couldn't blame him. Though I desperately wanted to. _Oh, how I yearned to_.

"Okay so where are they now?" I asked, trying to recover from the blow.

"I told them we were out of food again, sent them out on another short raid; it should last about a day. They'll be back by this time tomorrow." He ran his hands through his hair, troubled. He deliberately turned his eyes away from mine, hiding whatever emotion he was feeling; being me, I moved so I could read the book that _was _Edward. One look at his eyes and you had the whole story; anyone could see what he was feeling.

What I saw in his eyes was guilt. Horribly deep guilt. Though I didn't precisely understand it, and that upset me. My peers were usually so conventional; something in my heart told me this wasn't the behavior for all males. This world would be much different if they were…better? I didn't know. In any case, Edward was obviously not average, for anyone. There wasn't anyone even on my side that matched him completely.

"Why?" I said softly, feeling all my animosity built up in the last day evaporate into thin air, almost quite literally. He noticed my gaze, and turned away once again, briskly.

"Nothing." He muttered.

And as he said this, I felt the strangest sensation, like my heart was, hurting, in the peculiar way. Everything was odd, ever since coming to this side, and meeting this boy, my whole world has flipped. Not in the way you'd expect to. I felt somehow more fragile, more vulnerable. _And it was only growing stronger_. I hated it. And I didn't comprehend it; it was awful.

But the point of the matter was Edward had been right all along; we had to work together. I wracked my mind for a way to use that as an angle.

"Look...Edward," I started, saying his name carefully. "Like you said, we have to work together; and we can't do that if we're hiding things from each other. And your father explained it too; we won't get anywhere if we're filtering our thoughts and feelings." I pronounced each word watchfully, cradling it; trying to get it across to him. I held my breath, hoping this was getting through his professionally composed mask. It wasn't the fact that my reasons really mattered, deep down I just wanted to know. He didn't answer for an eternity; I prayed he was considering telling me.

Finally he looked up at from a gap in his bronze hair; the emotion was there, but it was reigned in. Reserved, like a feeble attempt to hide it. A weak smile was on his face.

"I hate it when I'm right." He chuckled quietly to himself, and looked away. I laughed softly, with no enthusiasm, hoping to not stray too far from the subject.

"It's nothing for you to be concerned about." He glanced up sheepishly, praying I'd just leave it at that. And I did. I surely didn't enjoy it when Alice pushed for answers; if you gave her even a hint, it was just exactly like you cut open a small fissure, and she ripped it open till it's more related to a giant, gaping hole.

I swallowed my insane, raging curiosity, which resembled a wild horse which has just been set free, and turned to go upstairs to the lavatory; Edward didn't say anything or object as I left him there. He didn't move, it almost seemed as if he wasn't breathing, from his stillness.

_Fine_, I scoffed internally; _two can play at that game_. And so, the vow of silence competition began.

Upon entering the lavatory, I noticed a small pile of folded, dark clothes on the counter. I ignored them temporarily, and went through my regular routine, pulling the blanket over the small window open, and caught the sun sinking into the ground. _Just_ sunset? The period of time had felt endless.

Finally, I shuffled over to the stack fabric, still bitter about Edward's refusal to open up.

My heart warmed and a feeling of foolishness coursed through me; I must have been tremendously predictable. The male attire I had abandoned earlier, sat here, pristine and waiting for my acceptance. He'd known I'd need the clothes, and that I wouldn't be asking for them.

I glimpsed over my shoulder, timidly, thinking somehow, Edward would be there watching my display of idiocy. Thankfully he was not. _Of course he wasn't, idiot_.

There began the war between two imps that resided within me, named _Common_ _Sense_ and _Pride_. _Common Sense_ won over all.

Vengefully, I set down the clothes, and began unbuttoning the front of the dress; as each button was released, I found sweet air filling my lungs; I even had to cough more than a few times. The relief of pressure was enormous; I stole one giant breath as it fell to the ground.

My eyes trailed over to the solitary shower head, similar to the faucet; I paused, deliberating. Was it polite to use it without asking?

I didn't want to imagine the terrible scene of trotting back down there to _ask_ Edward if I could use his shower. I banished it immediately; I would twist the necks of a thousand baby squirrels before _that_ happened.

Taking a shower was a good thing; I got clean, but the water was so freezing, I soon couldn't feel my face without having to slap myself. I shook violently as the water ran over my hyper-aware skin, what was worse, was that I could literally see the dirt collect at my feet. I'd never thought I was so grimy.

After being pelted by icy water, I stepped shyly in the unfamiliar clothes; they fit strangely, and loosely. I shivered in uneasiness, at the new apparel; I was out of place in them, and yet they fit more comfortably than anything else I've ever worn. They hung loose, and didn't make me feel self-conscious about my body.

I shook out the tension in my muscles, and looked upon myself in the mirror; I appeared tiny in the oversized clothes, you couldn't even see my baby fat Mother was always complaining about. The most abnormal part of it all, I could really move, the tight lace in the back didn't constrict me upright, the fabric wasn't scorching, and I could breathe.

The shirt was dark brown, and the pants (that came right past my knees) were black; I raised my arms, as if I were going to answer a question in school, just to get to know the feeling of freedom. I noticed my cheeks were getting flusher, my color had returned. I looked healthier.

Twisting around, I got a fine view of my figure (or lack thereof in this ensemble); I skipped out of the lavatory, not bothering to check to see if anyone was there, for I knew everyone whom didn't know of me was gone. I caught sight of the piano once more, I grinned a bit at the memory.

I pushed open the basement door, to find that the place Edward had been, was empty; I should have guessed, it made sense that he'd move. A slight wave if stupidity washed threw me.

Just as I turned away from the open door, a loud _crash_ came from around the corner, making me jump out of my skin faster than Mother does when her dresses become too tight around her waist. A shrill shiver rushed over my skin, which was now covered with goose bumps; I turned toward the sound.

The light padding of my bare feet echoed through the now quiet corridor as I was caught in between running and walking. Upon rounding the corner, I discovered the kitchen. It matched everything else; it wasn't decorated, it was just enough to get by.

I shrank back toward the wall; I saw Edward crouched on the floor, grimacing and muttering madly to himself as he quickly scooped up whatever he had dropped. I supposed it was food, but I didn't recognize it (which surprised me none, much to my disdain, because I didn't know most things here). It was all mushy and off-white.

"It's oatmeal." He called out, without even looking up; I sighed. How did he know I was here? I stepped out of my hiding place and moved over to help him pick up this 'oatmeal'.

"You know I have not even remotely a clue what that is, right?" I asked indifferently; his eyes grazed to my attire, and his cheeks rose in a sunny smirk along with a soft chuckle.

"Naturally." He stopped at looked at me. "Nice clothes, where'd you get them?"

"I just found them, you know, lying around." I smiled, resting the goop on the counter as he put the big bowl down.

"Okay," He sighed, motioning to the cabinets. "What are you hungry for? We've got…" He power walked with strength and agility to various shelves. "Oh, look, we've got strawberries. Want some?" He looked over his shoulder at me, I nodded. Strawberries. A shrill of sheer happiness ran through me as the pure thought of something familiar being here along with the piano.

"Sure." I said with a spring in my step as I moved to get next to him; I picked up a strawberry and popped it into my mouth, before grabbing four more and moving out of the room.

His quiet laughter echoed off the walls as I wandered over to the insignificant little book shelf in the corner; the wood was the shade of moist soil, and the books were old and worn, with dust on top. I shot one more glance over to the kitchen, before reaching forward and grabbing one, thinking I'd be scolded.

I didn't see the title, my eyes were glazed over, not really paying that close attention; putting it back in its place, my hand ghosted lightly over the spines of the thick books, looking for one that caught my eye, or if I could recognize any.

None did. Unfortunate, but not surprising.

**Boo, boring chapter, I know. :/ But never fear my little pretties, much excitement and plot forwardness happens in the next chapter! *Cheers* Which you will be able to read tomorrow! Here's the teaser, you can get the rest of it if you review:**

_**After a moment, one of them— the lankier one— closed his hard, cold sapphire eyes. "Who are you—?"**_

_** "What are you?" The other cut in; quite rudely if I might add, but the other made no motion to stop him. That was obviously the real question.**_

_** "What do you think I am?" I asked, not wanting to give up information; albeit, incredibly basic information, but information all the same. **_

_** "A… You're a…" The slightly bigger one said; I guessed that was Emmett.**_

"_**A woman."**_


	9. Chapter 8

**Next chapter—excited much? No? Well you will be…maybe.**

**Chapter 8**

Regardless of my dreariness that eventually built up over time, I refused to go back to sleep; I had only a limited amount of time before I had to go back to that hell called the basement. I would stay here until I absolutely had to go back.

Carlisle returned not too long ago, clearly dead tired from being up almost twenty-four straight hours; he threw me an absent 'hello' before residing to his room. I'd felt a pang of an unknown emotion at the sheer casualness and ease of his greeting, it made me feel strange. Like I had always been a part of his day, as if it were completely natural for me to be here.

Moving past that, as soon as Carlisle came in, Edward had gone stiff. I could tell he'd been warring with himself whether or not to take his shift or stay here; I decided I was a big girl, so I shoved him along. He had protested feebly, but I wasn't going to let him miss another shift on account of me. Plus other men would grow suspicious if he suddenly stopped going to the hospital, and we didn't want any unnecessary attention.

I took Edward's advice he'd given me earlier on and I just picked up a book.

The story was like no other; it was so eerie. The main character was a teenage boy; I had to flip back to the previous pages, to be sure this character was indeed not a woman. The mannerisms of him were so different, yet so much the same as us. It showed new insight to the mind of a man. His thoughts intrigued me, and raised emotions I didn't completely even understand.

What truly shocked me was how unceremoniously he spoke of women in this world, the stories the Crazies told were nothing compared to this intense cornucopia of disarray. How well both of our races were so blended together, opened up my mind to new possibilities, and new questions.

Although the problems in this story arose because of girls, they seemed to fit in there perfectly. The characters were so much more passionate than anyone I'd known; the deep love is what drove these characters to do what they do—so much more wild than this world.

Which is why I felt something big shifting. Or at least I had a theory.

Through reading the book, it gave me insight, just like a science experiment.

My side was boring; utterly tedious. Now for me, a great change shifted and broke the chain of monotony, and it didn't just result from a change of scenery. In this book, what drove the men to attack were women, and extreme jealousy. Were the two races not together, the problems would not have risen. Then again, these characters would not have gone anywhere, and the story wouldn't exist.

I thought that maybe it was a chemical thing. Now, humiliating science lessons with Miss Newton had put this fact formally onto paper; this was the same thing except it held a greater impact with real world experience.

That's why, I felt and acted differently here. Being here alone wasn't the cause; it was _Edward_.

Our races are opposite—yet the same; this was something I'd never heard of in school. This realization was like dunking my head in a bucket of ice water (or the equivalent of taking a shower on this side).

We weren't so different. Yet the contrast between these two worlds was mind boggling.

We were like one color, yellow; these men were another color, blue; the colors stay the same, not coming in contact with one another, resulting in a complete standstill in the human anatomy. When these two colors mix, they made green. Just like in the book.

I was left with one question. One I'd never considered.

Why _did_ they put The Wall up?

What could have happened between our races to cause the Volturi to put up such an obstacle and separate us? What good would that do? All that did was take away passion, and I didn't see how that was beneficial to anyone.

What could have caused this?

So many questions, so little answers, and these raging theories and dead end assumptions effectively drove me into near madness.

After an eternity of thinking, I decided that was more than enough brain power anyone should have to use for one day; so I set aside the book of childlike fantasies, and closed my eyes.

I sighed in impatience. It felt like mere minutes had passed, reading that book; though checking the clock, it indicated it'd been a good five hours. I brought the heels of my hands up to rub my poor eyes, for they stung like they'd been taped open for a thousand years. It was amazing how time could fly so quickly when you're learning about an impossible world. Or at least, attempting to comprehend it. It had felt less like reading a novel and more like a history textbook.

Resting the back of my head against the couch, the longer my eyes stayed closed, the more reality blended into non-reality; I smiled to myself, welcoming the sleep. My muscles relaxed and just as I was about to float away into nothingness.

I suddenly felt the presence of the strange voice. Groaning internally, I waited for what it would say. I just wished it would disappear. On top of being completely out of my element, I didn't need something else to have to deal with; with all my emotions built up, I felt this could be the straw that broke the horse's back. The voice wasn't clear, it didn't talk directly to me— a good thing. But what made me purely worry, was it didn't have to talk to me, it made me _feel_— a very disturbing thing.

And like switching a light on, my senses were as sharp as a jungle cats'. I shot up, ready for an attack, but not knowing why. Why were my senses heightened like this? It wasn't normal. In an instant, I was split away from everyone else in the world, except the people who went crazy in jail. I was going insane!

_What_? I snarled in my mind. Again, it remained silent; but suddenly, I had the intense sensation to hide.

_Hide!_ It yelled at me, breaking the quiet. My legs jerked forward, reflexively, but I stopped them, still confused and not knowing why I had to run.

Just as I was about to start an internal war with myself, I heard voices. _Real_ voices. Coming from outside, two of them. Male voices. What was worse was, along with their voice was, the sound of the door opening.

_Oh_, I thought cynically_, maybe the voice in my head has some brains_. I growled a profanity under my breath and whirled around, searching for a hiding place.

My heart raced and beat erratically against my chest, and my blood pulsed, boiling in my veins with red, hot adrenaline. I was losing time, with each passing second I was getting closer to being hog tied and carried away.

And like an idiot, I ran.

I flew to the basement door. Looking back on it, I probably should have woken Carlisle up, but that never crossed my puny mind. Panic held me in its grip like a master to its puppet.

Flinging open the basement door, I all but tumbled down the rickety old steps, and fell onto the floor, while hearing the male voices again. They were in the living room now, where I had been mere seconds ago. The thought sent a new shot of energy through me, pushing me up and off the dusty floor and into a pile of flour bags by the staircase.

My body fell on top of the dense, hard bags with all the strength and weight of my body; I stifled a groan as I buried myself deeper into the (what appeared to be) flour. As soon as I could no longer see any light peeking through the bags, I sighed. I struggled to hear any sign of their arrival.

Could those be Edward's brothers? I thought they weren't supposed to be here until tomorrow (or later today according to the clock in the living room). What were they doing home so early? This was bad, this was _very_ bad!

And without thinking, I whimpered, "Please hurry, Edward." I then internally pinched myself, with a wince. I shouldn't have to rely on him; I'm a strong independent—

"The supplies are down here!" The male voice was terrifying close, and the sound of feet coming down the steps to where I was, made me start shaking.

_Strong woman speech later, cower in fear now_, I decided formally.

My hands brushed over the rough fabric of the flour bags, clenched and unclenching, as my eyes darted back and forth, looking for any pinnacle of light. But alas, I received no way to indicate where the men were. I struggled to keep my ragged breath quiet.

The voices drew terrifyingly closer. "I think the extra sacks are over here." One of the men said, thankfully, from across the room.

"That revelation would have been a lot more useful if it had come before we'd hiked ten miles already." The other one said with a hint of superiority in his tone, and cynicism. I grew still and froze my muscles, making sure not even a stray hair moved.

"I was distracted. I've been thinking a lot lately—." The first one, said absently.

"Let's cherish this moment because, we'll be in the same house with a _woman_ the next time that happens." The other said, cutting him off scorn tainting his voice, and I smirked a little bit. Dark irony filled the room, invisible to the men.

The terrifying footsteps continued to search and scour for their supplies; I held my breath inside me for as long my body possibly could. However, I had to release shaky breathes every endless minute or so. I prayed that the sound wouldn't carry past my secret fortress.

They kept on looking through random crates and bags for a few moments, to a point where I thought I'd combust from the torturous suspense. They would mumble to each other sometimes, but would soon go back to their scavenging; my arms and limbs ached from being stuck in one position for such a long time.

_Why won't they leave?_ My sub-conscience shrieked, with a fury and desperation of a criminal. A criminal. Was that what I was now? It was true I had broken the law by coming here. But did it count if I didn't know how? I supposed that was what I had become, nothing more than a criminal; I passively wondered what Mother would say if she knew where I was right now. I flinched at the image. I found myself missing her, just a bit. But, that didn't feel right. Maybe it was the security I missed; that seemed more valid.

Finally—_finally_, they found whatever insignificant thing they were looking for and started up the old, creaky, rotting steps. It seemed as if I was really, in the clear.

By this time, I should have already known that things just didn't like to work out for me.

And in an instant, the situation, which had shown with a tiny, sliver of hope, had crashed down upon me. Literally.

As their heavy footfall sounded above me, on the ancient steps, one careless slip of the foot had caused the thin beams to buckle and make a horrendous crunching and snapping sound that could slice through the thickest fog. And in one immense motion, the staircase broke and came tumbling down on top of the sacks. With me in them.

Getting into a ball, I heard the men's deep voices went from bass to soprano when they screamed as the floor beneath them collapsed; luckily they hadn't gotten far enough to be angled over me, for I would have surely been crushed. Biting my lip, I persisted in stifling a horrible cry as the panic of the position settled in.

I could feel the vibrations the wood fell on top of the sacks directly above me; I was expecting an intense pain as the stairs would crush me. But, it never came. Why wasn't I screaming in agony? The impact was hard, but it would only cause a few bad bruises.

I was probably buried so deep into the flour; the sacks above me absorbed the blow. I let out a shrill, hysterical laugh, not loud for the men who were currently shaking off the fall; I wasn't dead, but now, instead of being able to lift up the bags in order to let myself out, my skinny arms did no good against the sheer weight of the fallen stairs.

I shoved again, searching for any kind leeway, and receiving none; much to my frustration.

A series of groans of recovery snapped out of my reverie. I was now stuck here, until Edward would happen to come back; panic gripped my mind as I scolded to myself to be silent.

"How're we gonna get back up there?" The first one asked, not very worriedly, as if he'd dealt with worse and this was mere child's play.

"Alright, let's just move this debris off the flour sacks, I can stand on them, and give you a boost up."

As soon as he mentioned that standing on top of me would be involved, I wriggled, struggling to move. I felt the wood being plucked off the pile, one by one, and the load getting lighter. He was so dangerously close, all he had to do was move a few bags and find me; my limbs were stiff and a chill ran down my back in fear.

In my fear, I found my desire to be a million miles away from this purgatory, on my own side. I swallowed the bile that rose to my throat.

And like a powerful switch, my fear was added on with a want to defend myself; a _need_ to fight back. A conflagration that burned white hot in my stomach.

My legs started kicking, hard and fast, making the flour fly off; in my desperation, I didn't even register the men's existence for a split second. For in the time it would take to really see them, my high would have evaporated. Feeling as if I were flying, my legs carried me to a weapon I hadn't even thought of; in a moment of intense desperation, I was able to think on my feet for once.

My hands clasped around the wide, rusting metal pipe that lay on the floor, and with all the strength I could muster, I yanked up.

I supposed there was pain along with the awkward popping sound in my shoulder, but I was too far gone to even address it; I swayed a bit as I held the heavy as lead, crude weapon.

My eyes flickered to the men's faces. Incomprehension and another foreign emotion dominated their frozen faces.

The tendons in my hand stretched and strained as I gripped it tighter; my senses were so heightened, I could see the colors of their eyes without losing focus. One of them had icy blue eyes and the other had chocolate brown eyes.

Three seconds passed of utter stillness, three meager seconds; I then sprang behind a nearby pile of boxes, holding the weapon out at point. They remained unmoving, bamboozled.

"Don't come near me." I growled lowly, trying to hide my absolute crippling fear that rocked me. They still stayed quiet. "Well," I said shakily. "Say something."

After a moment, one of them— the lankier one— closed his hard, cold sapphire eyes. "Who are you—?"

"_What_ are you?" The other cut in; quite rudely if I might add, but the other made no motion to stop him. That was obviously the _real_ question.

"What do you think I am?" I asked, not wanting to give up information; albeit, incredibly _basic_ information, but information all the same.

"A… You're a…" The slightly bigger one said; I guessed that was Emmett.

"A woman." The other (who I supposed was Jasper) finished with a hint of superiority. Emmett looked at me with a curious gaze, a large contrast from his brothers' spiteful glare.

"What he said." I told him, while pointing to Jasper with the pipe.

Emmett nodded and started stupidly pinching his arm vehemently. I tilted my head in confusion.

"Em, " Jasper started; I noted in my head that I had been right about the names. "_What_ are you _doing_?" I brought my gaze to him, searching for an answer as well. I was happy I wasn't the only one confused.

"Trying to wake myself up; I must have fallen asleep in the front room, because everything was normal before coming down here." He continued to concentrate on his delusion.

"Tried that. Didn't work." I murmured vengefully, they looked at me strangely. "Oh, by the way, you really shouldn't do that," Jasper continued to look at me with the same peculiar gaze. "It unnecessarily destroys cells."

Jasper threw up his hands snootily. "Thank you O' Queen of Wisdom; you have answered our haunting question." I felt my mouth drop and my eyebrows come down from the blow of his venomous sarcasm.

"How dare you talk to me like that? I am a lady—"

"Yeah _that_ much is clear." He raised his eyebrows at me in a way that said '_do you really want to play this game?_' I sighed in a huff; he was really going to be a problem.

"What did you mean by '_tried that. Didn't work_?'." Emmett asked, acting as if Jasper and my exchange had never existed; already in a bad mood I answered.

"It means, I already 'tried that', and it 'didn't work'." I explained slowly, and then exhaled, letting the negativity flow out. "I woke up here and I've been confused ever since."

"How long?" Jasper asked suspiciously.

"A few days." After the words left my mouth, I knew I'd let something important slip; I slapped my hand over my mouth. Jasper stepped forward, prepared to interrogate me. I held the weapon forward and pressed it to his throat. "I'm not afraid to use this." A look a smug composure shone on his face.

"You won't do it, you don't have the guts." He nudged the jagged end of the pipe with his finger. I didn't move it back. "If you've been here so long," He looked up and down my body. "Where'd you get the clothes?" He asked as if he were a man on a mission.

"Well," I stammered. "I—"

"And how did you get in here?" He stepped toward me, boring his eyes into mine, trying to break my mask.

"Yeah and why are all the windows covered with blankets?" Emmett took a big step forward, but his advance was not a menacing one, but an inquisitive one.

"How have you stayed hidden for so long?" Jasper and my faces were inches apart now, my blood raced. This was not good. I backed away against the wall, discarding the weapon for I knew it would be of no help.

In that moment, Jasper grabbed my forearm and gripped strongly; sending pain up my arm. I let out a cry and whipped my head back.

"Hey!" An amazingly familiar voice boomed through the basement, I sighed in relief; Jasper released my arm, and along with his brother, looked at me weirdly. They obviously didn't miss that trip up. "What are you guys doing?" He boomed again, seeing the unprecedented position of them ganging up on me and I pressed against the wall.

"Edward, look!" Emmett shouted up and pointed at me as Edward leapt skillfully down from the doorway.

"First of all, what happened to the stairs?" He inquired angrily at them both.

"_'First of all_?'" Jasper yelled in disbelief and pointing rudely at me. "Do you not see who I am pointing at?"

"It's not polite to point." I said quietly yet smugly, hoping to agitate him.

"You know what? _Shut up_." He said dismissively to me.

"Hey man, don't be rude like that." Edward told him disappointedly, like he'd expected differently.

"Thank you!" I exclaimed to Edward, throwing my hands up like Jasper had, but resting them on my hips. His head whipped between us in utter disbelief at our relationship, whatever it was.

"_What_? You _knew_?" He howled at Edward while Emmett stayed quietly to the side, slowly shuffling his way to me.

"Okay, Jas, let me explain—" Edward started, with his palms out, defensively.

"Let you explain? Why I ought to…" Their conversation turned into a muffled buzzing in the background as Emmett came to stand close to me and turn to me with a smile.

"Hi My name is—" He started, his warm, chocolaty eyes.

"Emmett, I know." I stopped him, trying to be friendly, knowing it was safe now that I had someone else in the room on my side.

"Weird; anyway I go by just Em." He bounced back jovially.

"I prefer Emmett." I replied sternly. I only referred to my closest friends with shorter nicknames.

"Well alrighty then." An uncomfortable silence fell upon us. "What's your name?" He looked down at me. "Only seems fair since you know mine."

"Bella." I told him, truly it wasn't fair how I made them refer to me by a nickname and I couldn't use his, but I had to take this one step at a time.

"Cool, so Edward knew about you? When did he find you?" Emmett looked down with his, curious, happy eyes.

"He's been very kind." I wanted to laugh at the near lie. "And about three days ago."

"I would expect so, and that's kinda funny."

"Why was it funny?" I answered in a puzzled way.

"More ironic than funny really, that's the day after his birthday." I barely registered the trivial fact. It frankly wasn't even that ironic. He nodded, glancing over to the bickering brothers. "So you're a woman, right?" His voice came out with a tone of seriousness, like I was going to deny it. Like it was _possible_ to deny it.

"Yes."

"Well what's it like?"He blurted, I internally groaned having to tell this story so much.

"I told Edward everything, he knows, you should probably ask him." I dismissed, not wanting to explain yet again.

"Yeah, but you're a primary source, you know more." He propped himself on his elbows on the bows, his face lit up with childlike wonder. It was so comical to see such a grown man with the look of a small child, I couldn't say no.

So while Edward and Jasper bickered, I retold the story of my side. Emmett just sat there, his eyes glazed over as he imagined. I contrasted the good, with the bad, he took it all in like he were starving and knowledge was his food.

"Whoa, that's…"

"Amazing? Incredible? Magnificent?" I smiled self-righteously.

"Cool." He grinned staring at the ceiling unseeingly.

"Okay guys, and girl." Edward started, taking control of the feud. "You and Em, just go to bed. No need for another scavenge—"

"We know that _now_."Jasper spat like an extinguished fire.

"And Bella, you can go to…_cot, _I guess." He finished gracelessly.

"Oh, _oh_, she's _Bella_ now." Jasper threw his hands across his chest while chuckling hysterically.

"_Yeah_," Edward stood in front of him, glaring. "Now go to bed, you look exhausted."

He glared back for a second before waving to Emmett. "C'mon Em." He turned to the nonexistent staircase. "Oh look, no way up!" He shouted with a sardonic laugh, glaring at me.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, now _that_ was your fault." I pointed back at him, he glowered at me.

"_'It's not polite to point_.'" He mocked, putting his hands on his hips to add to the effect.

We spent the next two minutes pushing both Jasper and Emmett up until they disappeared into their rooms and it was just Edward I left in the basement.

"So," He exhaled, staring up at the doorway. "Since the cat is out of the bag, you can sleep on the couch, I'm sure it's okay. No need to go to _cot_."

I nodded tiredly; gathering the pillow and blanket as he helped lift me up. Gripping the bottom of the doorframe, I struggled to pull my body up over it, it wasn't impossible though. Once I was over, he threw up the pillow and blanket; he stepped back and leapt up, with amazing agility, and grabbed onto the doorframe.

Once we were both up, he pointed to the couch exhaustedly and murmured a 'goodnight' before going through a door. Bringing my things over to the couch and resting them down, I lifted up the curtains to have the bright sunlight pierce through the fabric. I closed it quickly before rubbing my eyes. Eagerly, yet tiredly, I threw my body onto the couch.

Yet another day on this side, and the more my tension was eased, not by much, but by a small fraction. So many questions, so few answers; but that was how the world worked right? Well, my world anyway.

**You guys know I had to make her meet Jasper and Emmett. It just wouldn't be a proper story without them; and I apologize in advance if you think Jasper's character is harsh, but you will learn all in good time my kittens. All in good time.**

**Review for the rest of the teaser:**

_**When I came back to the room, Edward was back, relaxing on my bed…well couch. I stomped over to him; he didn't even look at me as he read.**_

"_**Hey, move." I swatted his shoulder; he looked up at me innocently. **_

"_**Nope." He popped his lips on the 'p'.**_

_**I shoved at his shoulder and squeezed into the seat on the couch, he shoved against me, and I shoved back; soon we were both situated, quite closely, on the couch. **_

"_**I'm hungry." He stated bluntly, pushing me slightly to get up and going into the kitchen, I sighed, lying down across the whole length of the couch.**_

_**What was going on? He was acting very peculiarly. **_

_**As the clatter of metal echoed throughout the house, I played absently with the heart pendant, watching the candlelight bounce off the jewel in the center. **_

"_**Hey," He started carefully, hesitantly. "You want to see your father— right?"**_


	10. Chapter 9

**(Sorry if I accidentally sent you the teaser twice, my email went berserk on me). I understand some of you don't like Jasper's character, and I have a few reasons for that:**

**Jasper's character is one to think in war strategy, and he's also extremely passionate about the ones he loves; on the male side, it's all about survival of the fittest, and in Jasper's mind harboring a woman is a very unnecessary liability, and he believes they should get rid of her as soon as possible, but since Edward wants to keep her there, he can't do much about it, so he's brooding and whining. I'm thinking in terms of human Jasper.**

**And even with this, I never said he wouldn't have a change of heart, now did I? Have faith, my lovelies, have faith…**

Chapter 9

As Edward went to do a double shift for missing the one before, I spent time with his brothers. Or Emmett, at least; Jasper never let up in his disdain.

Usually I appreciated such intelligent wit, however he just infuriated me. Sometimes I just wanted to punch him, but that was not very lady-like. He would just glare at me then move to stare at whatever else was in within a five foot radius of him, if I were so blessed as to catch the eye of his majesty himself.

How could he hate me so much? I got lucky when Edward found me— someone with at least the compassion of a plant, but Jasper seemed to not even have that much. Obviously, I wasn't not getting the entire picture, because Edward still thought the world of him. I, on the other hand, wouldn't mind if he got lost or got attacked by a bear on a raid or something. I knew the fantasy was wrong, but my imagination worked on its own accord.

Emmett was the polar opposite of his brother; he was genuine and funny, and easier to talk to than his two brothers. He didn't seem like an equal, he came off as a caring, happy-go-lucky friend.

Though he was understanding enough, I hoped there was a woman like him on my side to talk to, when I got back; when Jasper would give me his famous 'why don't you just go jump off a cliff?' look, he would stealthily place himself between us so I could continue telling whatever story I was telling. I swore, the creature was insatiable when it came to stories of the other side. Every miniscule word I uttered was like a breath of air for him.

What I noticed was, that around them I didn't get that feeling like I couldn't lose face, like their opinion didn't matter; why did I act differently around Edward? I figured it was a male thing, but apparently not. What was wrong with me? This wasn't like me, as Alice would say; I should get back to normal. Edward made my blood boil, but so did Jasper. The only difference is that anger can switch off in an instant around Edward, but that was permanent around Jasper.

That funny, fluttering feeling I got in my stomach when I looked at Edward sometimes, was still present. In fact, the times were my heart didn't beat faster when I looked into his eyes were shrinking in frequency. I hadn't even begun to explore that region, because in there laid a whole cornucopia of emotions that went straight over my head. They was best left undealt with.

Aside from that, my stay had gotten a lot more pleasant since I didn't have to hide from them anymore, and my head was healing more every day; the headaches becoming weaker and less frequent, making me more confident about my memory.

But with every glance in the mirror, I looked different, though my appearance remained the same; like I was going through a change. I brushed it off, all this stress was bound to screw with my head. I just had to keep grounded. However, that mission seemed to become more and more hopeless with each passing hour on this side.

The voice came often, disturbing me; yet I still pushed it to the back of my head. A lot of times, it was silent, merely watching.

Getting to know the house better, I would lead myself into the kitchen to get food when I grew hungry, becoming more independent—A helpful turn of events. It was good I wasn't completely helpless, though… was it a positive thing if I adjusted to the complexities of this side?

I sat on the couch, rereading the book Edward gave me, still jumping a bit whenever I thought Mother would round the corner.

I wasn't sure what I expected, maybe a simple 'hello' or 'I'm back', but Edward completely ignored my existence when he returned, disappearing into the basement (with new stairs I might add, it's a wonder how much Jasper, Emmett and Carlisle could do in one night of hard work).

Returning back up, he carried a few sacks, and pure black clothing; he started to the door.

"Hi." I muttered, rolling my eyes, trying to get back into the book. The shuffling of his feet stopped.

"Oh, hi." He said swiftly. "Still reading the book I see."

"Yes." I answered curtly. "Mind to tell me where you're going?" I asked, trying to come off as indifferent, but it bothered me he would just overlook me like that.

"On a short scavenge; I'll be back in an hour." He murmured.

And with that, he walked out of the door. My curiosity dragged me over to the window where I pulled back the curtain; I watched as he walked to the edge of the vegetation, where he transformed. From the Edward I'd known, into a hunter, ready to kill, and ran off into the forest. A warm tingle ran down my spine.

I decided to take advantage of my time and freshen up, meaning a nice, bitterly cold shower. Upon getting out, I went through the absolute pain of combing through my hair with my fingers; this hair was _not_ meant for any other side but my own. It was down to my waist and that was definitely a no-no for this side.

When I came back to the room, Edward was back, relaxing on my bed…well couch. I stomped over to him; he didn't even look at me as he read.

"Hey, move." I swatted his shoulder; he looked up at me innocently.

"Nope." He popped his lips on the 'p'.

I shoved at his shoulder and squeezed into the seat on the couch, he shoved against me, and I shoved back; soon we were both situated, quite closely, on the couch.

"I'm hungry." He stated bluntly, pushing me slightly to get up and going into the kitchen, I sighed, lying down across the whole length of the couch.

What was going on? He was acting very peculiarly.

As the clatter of metal echoed throughout the house, I played absently with the heart pendant, watching the candlelight bounce off the jewel in the center.

"Hey," He started carefully, hesitantly. "You want to see your father— right?" I stopped, not understanding.

"_Why_?" I muttered suspiciously, sitting upright and dropping the necklace.

He kept his back to me, refusing to meet my eyes, "Since your memory doesn't look like it's coming back anytime soon, I figured you'd might…you know, want to see him." He trailed off.

"You'd do that?" I exclaimed graciously, running up to where he stood and wrapping my arms around him in a quick and hard hug; I jumped up and down happily. I was about to ask how we would find him, but the thought of meeting him overjoyed me to the point of not even caring.

I was going to meet my father. Finally, I had no idea just how incredible I would feel in the knowledge that I would see him soon. To possibly have someone who cared about me on this alien side. The feeling was too strong to contain, if Edward changed his mind now, I felt I would have exploded.

I was the most fortunate woman in the world. To be able to meet my father when no other girl has ever been able to do that, _ever_. My opinion of the male side switched in an instant, if my memory came back this second, they'd have to kill me to get me to leave before meeting my father.

"Er…sure." He breathed as I released him from my grip.

"When do we go?" I asked boisterously, gripping his shoulders, leaping up and down. His eyes were downcast, and then he looked back up at me with hopefulness.

"Whenever." He shrugged, obviously surprised at my exuberance; my heart almost stopped. So soon? I never knew anyone could be so happy. My heart swelled in joy and I felt my lips pull back in a permanent beam.

It all seemed too perfect.

**[The chapter was supposed to end here…but as I was going to post it, I saw it had only about 1,400 words. Which it insanity, so I'm combining the two shortest chapters (9 and 10) into one.]**

Before we were to leave, I took a long shower because I would not be able to for a while. According to Edward's information gathering, he traced my last name through the villages and my father was well known. The village he lived in is about a three day trip by foot; when I heard this news, I could only groan. We would have to _walk_. Agonizing.

Physical education was never my strong suit in school; I used to believe I could win a race, but I would always finish near last with my heart about to jump of my chest. As I got older, I gave up and accepted the fact that I was athletically challenged. Alice always laughed at me as she passed me up in races, and received perfect scores.

As Edward gathered all he needed for our journey, I just sat there, feeling embarrassed because I had nothing to pack. I stroked my hair, absently, not wanting to look like an imbecile, doing nothing.

He paced over to the sword display, and took the longest, sharpest looking blade off the shelf from the very top, and placed it in a sheath.

"Why would you need that?" I asked gawking at its enormity; I thought it purely for show. He stared at me like I'd just commented on his shoes.

"Because it makes me look cool." He chuckled sarcastically, rolling his eyes, and then he got serious, meeting my gaze. "Things aren't as tame on this side; it's eat or be eaten." I gulped loudly; he chuckled lowly at my fear.

"It's best we start travelling at night, to get out of this town first." He started, moving to the window and pulling back the blanket to check where the sun was. "Once we're away from the familiar eyes of the men here, it should be relatively safe to travel in daylight." He recited like an experienced outdoorsman.

"What do I do about…me?" I asked, motioning to my body. I surely wouldn't blend in, in a male society—I'd stick out like a sore thumb.

"Um…" He moved quickly over to a trunk nestled in the corner, thrust it open and started rifling through it.

"What are you doing?"

"Here we go." He pulled out something long and dark; he smiled upon it proudly and shook it out. "Put this on over your clothes." He threw it at me. I held my arms out to block it, stupidly. He just sighed.

It was a long dark cloak with a hood. "Wouldn't this get hot during the day?"

"I guess." He shrugged. "Make sure you keep the hood on though, most men don't have long, flowing hair." 'Well _obviously'_, I wanted to say, but I felt I'd exhibited enough lapses in common sense.

I looked at it quizzically; I couldn't put my finger on it, but I'd seen this cloak before…

"Alright." I swung it around my shoulders and tightened the rope; the fabric was smooth, like velvet. He brought his hand up to the curtain and moved it aside to reveal the setting sun.

"Almost time to get going. Ready?" I was about to answer 'yes', but I was about to venture out into the vast, unknown world, known as the male side; was I truly ready to leave what little stability I had here? I would be walking amongst men, trying to appear as one, and one tiny slip up and I would be discovered. And even Edward would not be able to protect me then.

Was I ready? My eyes trailed down to my hair I was currently combing through with my fingers. My heart sank as I discovered just what exactly I must do.

"Bella," Edward's voice broke through my thoughts. "Are you ready?" He asked once more.

Could I really do this? I had to, even though Edward never made me I knew it was an inevitable conclusion I'd needed to face. Could I really sever my last tie to my side in an effort to stay as hidden as possible? Was I strong enough?

"Not quite." I muttered softly, getting one last look at my long locks. "Can I see that sword?" His head shot up, his eyes widened in surprise.

"Why?"

"It'll make me look cool." I mimicked, as I took it from his hand. "Trust me; I need to do this alone." I turned away from him.

"Do what?"

"You'll see." I smiled weakly and sent him away.

My feet, which held the weight of lead now, dragged across the floor and to a lone mirror that hung on a wall in the living room, I passively brought up a box to sit on.

I stared at myself in the reflective glass. My eyes were crazed and it looked as though I hadn't slept in days, yet I could see the tides had changed within me. Something not visible was changing in me. I wasn't sure if it was good.

Getting rid of the dress had seemed like a stretch at first, letting go of a tie to my side; clinging to the rules and orders of my side, the last remnants of where I live. _Lived_. But this, _this_ was much larger.

If I were to take this sword and cut away the thing that defined me on that side, then what would become of me? Would I be able to retain who I was? I was afraid. Afraid of losing myself; afraid of what I would become. If I ever did get back to my side, questions would arise about where my hair went, unnaturally short hair was frowned upon in Hollow Wood.

But if I kept it, and by accident I was discovered sometime on the journey, the social standards of my side wouldn't be relevant; I would be dead anyway.

Common Sense and Pride were once again at war.

My hair was my signature, it was the only thing Alice could not have, although she had everything else; it was the only thing Mother was truly proud of in me. But, in order to survive, it had to go. Eat or be eaten. Plus if I was found out because of it, Edward could be in danger, and he'd been so hospitable to me. I would never be able to forgive myself if I were to let that happen.

And what if my memory never came back? I'd pondered this before, but it never seemed to be as real as it did now. Now, as we planned to leave the safety of his home, into the wilderness of this side, the concept seemed too real. Then, my hair would be useless to me, except to get tangled up, and have more to clean.

My hands went to the wrap around my head, I pressed down on it; it didn't hurt very much, just a mild pain. I decided to take it off; I unwrapped the gauze and set it down. I was sick of always having to change it out and put on a new one after a shower.

My eyes raked over my lengthy, brown hair for the last time; I let out a shaky breath before I collected all of my hair in a ponytail at the top of my head with my left hand. My hair protested at the roots from being pulled so forcefully; my eyes grew red at the rims, but I refused to let any tears slip. The feel of my hair in my hands almost made me drop it back; maybe I could keep it all up in a bun, but somehow I knew that wouldn't work. It could easily be pulled out. It was too high of a risk.

I wiped the moistness off my right palm on the cloak before picking up the sword with it. It glistened in the candle light— deadly and swift; my face reflected back at me. Its length and sharpness, taunted me, mocked my reason. My hand shakily brought it behind my head and tucked it, readily, under my ponytail.

_Last chance…_ the voice said softly, as if it were in my ear. Instead of telling me not to, it seemed to encourage my will to do it.

And with one last breath, and a quick push of my wrist, the sharp blade sliced through the insignificant tendrils of hair all at once. Suddenly, I was holding a handful of my very own locks.

Bringing it away from my head, what was left of my hair fell sloppily above my ears, in pieces, not neat like Alice's. I could only gasp and shut my eyes as I stared at the whole length of my hair resting in my hands.

With a trembling sob, I let it fall to the ground; my legs shoved my body away from it, as if it were a sickness, and my hands made their way up to my head, feeling it in new form; my mind hadn't registered yet— but it was already done.

My hair was gone, and it couldn't be reversed.

When the initial alarm wore off, and I found myself finally settled and stabilized; I took the first look at myself.

I looked utterly pathetic. I looked like I'd been mauled by an animal.

I took the sword and cut the front of my hair. _I might as well go all the way_, I thought, perhaps a little irrationally. The rest of hair fell to the floor until I cut it, crudely.

With each cut, I felt a slice at my heart; like I was not only cutting my hair, but I was cutting something much deeper. Like this held much more meaning than I could see, as if I were cutting away my ties to my home. I kept chopping madly until I came from my high.

I stole another glance; it was better (and worse) than before. It was all short, but it was uneven and shaggy.

I thought I would be thrust into another panic attack. Yet, I was alright. The world didn't end like I thought it would.

Like in a dream, I felt as I was detached from myself as I raised the hood up and over my head.

I marched to the front door, holding the sword out toward Edward; who stood at the doorway.

"Here," I said shortly, looking down. "This is yours." Edward turned around, and jumped a little when he saw it was pointed at him.

"You're not supposed to point the blade at anyone." He chuckled, and reached around to grab it by the handle, but his laughter died quickly as he closely examined the blade. His eyebrows knit together in confusion. He brought his fingers down to pluck a piece of my hair off.

"Is this hair?" He asked, mutedly, observing it. His eyes came back up to meet my half hidden ones.

"What did you do to yourself?" He rushed, alarmed.

His hand ripped down the hood to reveal my new appearance.

I could only stare, silently, awaiting his response. He took an involuntary step back at first, and blinked his eyes twice; he then started staring at it weirdly, not being able to meet my gaze. Scratching the back of his head he started.

"Um…" His eyes grazed it again, refusing to meet my eyes. "Wow." He breathed nervously, looking at his feet. "That's an interesting…um…_wow_." He gawked at it openly now, then he seemed to finally see I was getting annoyed with his gaze. "I'm sorry, I—"

"Shut up." I silenced the torment of watching him stumble and trip over himself, bumping his shoulder roughly as I walked past him; I was offended by his lack of composure. I knew it was horrifying to look at, but he didn't have to _show_ it.

"You sure do have a temper." He murmured as he straggled behind, I stopped and, subconsciously, I threw my hands on my hips.

"What did you say?" I whipped around, my face beat red. He caught my expression and gulped.

"Nothing." He stiffened and his eyes held fear in them, I internally smiled. I nodded and began turning away.

"I thought so." I pointed my finger at him as I turned; he laughed quietly, and jogged to catch up with me.

I reached back and roughly pulled the hood back over my head, embarrassed; after a few seconds of wallowing in my humiliation, I peeked up at the outside.

It hit me harder than I thought it would.

I turned to the _left_ and saw The Wall; I stumbled back, and my breathing hitched. I couldn't even believe it was the same wall I'd known for my whole life.

I turned away from it; the houses were shabby, the trees were enormous, and the roads were overgrown with grass and the street was deserted. It was so different, yet I felt the same breeze I felt this time of year, the soil was the same color, the grass was the same texture, and the clouds were still fluffy. The only difference was the unnaturally built things, like buildings. Take those away, and our sides looked the same.

I raised my head to glance at Edward, who was currently engrossed in the map he held, and for the first time, I could imagine our two races living together. A long time ago, not today though. A long time ago, it was possible. And for once— I understood what the Crazies had been saying in their stories, but, they were no longer just tales. I was living it right now.

"Okay, I might regret asking this again, you might go cut something else, but are you ready?" He finished, trying to be humorous.

"Yeah." I threw a halfway angry glance at him; my feet dragged against the smooth stones of the pathway, floating behind him, now.

"Why'd you do it?" He whispered in my ear, as we came to the fringe of towering trees.

"I couldn't risk being caught, and it's not a big deal, hair grows back." I had to pinch myself to seethe that last line out; his eyes were studying me, he had obviously seen through me.

"You think I can't protect you?" He asked, playfully, but I saw real offense under his act.

"If my hair were to fall out in a village, I wouldn't let you even _try_ to protect me against that." I chuckled, trying to lighten the weight of the conversation, he seemed to relax only a little at that.

"But I _could_ if I had to." He pushed; I rolled my eyes, laughing. His determination to convince me of something so impossible was comical to me. I didn't understand it. I'm sure nobody would act like that on my side. _Oh well, I'm learning all the time_, I concluded.

"Sure you can." I patted his shoulder patronizingly, he grunted unhappily.

"But I _can_." He pushed, in all seriousness. I covered my mouth to stifle another laugh.

"I never said you couldn't." I rebutted. "Now can we start walking so we get there _before_ the sun comes back up?" I said mordantly.

"Fine, but I still _can_."

Another note: Edward stubbornly loved to have the last word.

**Woot! They're going places! The next few chapters are full of excitement and thrills. **

**Review for the rest of the teaser:**

_**As he yanked back my hood, it fell from my head, and my full feminine face was revealed.**_

"_**Hey!" Edward shouted. "Leave her alone!"**_

_**Her. **_**Her.**

_**Edward, you idiot,**_

_**His eyes widened when he realized what he'd said. My fuller lips, my longer eyelashes, my cleaner skin (that wasn't from genetics, it was only proof. I hadn't lived here my whole life), and my heart pendant (which conveniently decided to fall out right then). All ties connecting to that one resounding 'her'.**_

_**All the men, except for Edward, huffed in shock; the man holding me dropped me out of surprise and I fell to the ground with a resounding thud.**_


	11. Chapter 10

**I have to admit, this is one my favorite chapters: lots of humor.**

**Chapter 10**

"How long have we been walking?"

"Three hours." Edward replied absently, while I moaned loudly.

"Only, three hours?" I called, feeling my body ache in way I never thought possible before, while he walked with ease.

"Stop being a wimp, it's not like you're going to die in _three hours_." He brushed it off as it were nothing.

"You may be surprised." I gasped, wanting to rip his head off.

The forest of this side was really the most intimidating place I'd ever wandered through; terrifying sounds came from every direction, causing Edward to laugh at me whenever I jumped. We saw paw prints the size of my head, and he barely gave them a second glance, while all I could do was gawk.

The thick canopy of the treetops only let in modest streams of moonlight. I might as well have been blind. We never had to walk in the darkness on my side through treacherous protruding roots and low branches. And spiders. These forests had an abundance of those, especially nocturnal ones. One even fell on my arm. I shrieked and killed it by smashing my arm against a tree truck repeatedly. Edward only shook his head at my stupidity.

My feet kept getting caught on roots, sending me flying into Edward from behind; after the first few times, he was prepared. Every time he would hear me gasp when I fell, he would gracefully catch me, and then proceed to make fun of me by asking if I needed to be carried. I'd never walked so much in my life, so much that I almost took him up on his offer about carrying me. My legs ached so badly I thought they'd fall off, I was wheezing like a dying animal, and my muscles protested with every step; I didn't want to seem weak by constantly asking Edward when we could rest, but it was unavoidable. He said we would stop when the sun came up.

He just kept sighing and smacking his hand against his forehead every time I would exploit my lack of grace; it wasn't tough to be graceful when the ground was stable, but now it was nearly impossible. I was glad I didn't have my hair to get caught on all the loose branches or act as a hiding place for the various insects.

In all my life, I didn't think I'd ever been so far away from home, where The Wall actually started to get smaller on the horizon. It was still massive in itself, but it wasn't looming over my shoulder like it usually was.

At last, I saw the first peeks of the sun climbing its way into the eastern sky; I almost cried out in euphony. I thought I would start sobbing when Edward at last told me we could sleep.

I fell to the forest floor, which was thick with morning dew, not bothering to wait for him to get out the blankets he'd packed. I believe I slipped into unconsciousness while I was still falling through the air.

I should have expected my torment wouldn't end there.

Accidentally falling straight into an ant pile, I conked out with dozens of angry, ants crawling on me. Edward had noticed after not too long, and after being bitten hundreds of times, he filled a cup with water and splashed it on my face. _To get them off_.

Consequently, that only makes ants angrier.

With my small taste of sleep gone, I leapt up, screaming; I had to run into the pond he'd gotten the water from.

Wet, exhausted, hurt, and livid, I pushed past Edward and threw his surprisingly heavy backpack over my shoulder; my sore muscles protested out, but I silenced them.

"Where are you going?" He'd called out to me, as I stamped forward, through the grass clenching up my legs, like hands clawing up from this green, moist, _hell_.

"We're leaving!" I yelled back, he only sighed and picked himself up to follow me.

Fatigue crippling my body, I trekked forward, with Edward following, cowardly behind me; I think he was a little bit intimidated by my aura of rage. He should have been. He was smart to straggle behind, out of my way. For I felt like a tornado, ripping up everything in my path, I thought I could see the little woodland animals cringe into the vegetation. Though it was probably my forced insomnia to add to my already out of control paranoia.

The sun crawled slowly up into the bright blue, cloudless sky; it set a happy, carefree atmosphere— too bad I was already having a terrible day. The beautiful, clear sky above was an annoying bug I wanted to smash; it was the insult to injury. It mocked my sour mood with light, airiness. I silently wished for a thunderstorm.

As I marched forward, the anger that fueled me was starting to wear off, and the exhaustion and fatigue hit me at once like a wrecking ball full of irony and cruelty.

I tried to keep going, depending on my sheer will to keep me fueled; however, this time that was nowhere near strong enough to fight the onslaught of tiredness.

My eyes caught a glimpse of a clearing, before I fell to my knees (checking to make sure I was near no ant hills) and lay in the tall, swaying grass. The cloak I wore covered me, and I wrapped up in it like a security blanket. We'd come to into a gorgeous meadow with wildflowers swaying in the wind, and purple mountains standing tall and timeless in the background.

I felt him sit down next to me as I started to float on a cloud of dreams.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" He whispered, watching the landscape, I guessed.

"I'm sleeping." I groaned, telling him to shut up.

"Ant hill." He said quietly; reflexively I leapt up, screaming. My legs began involuntarily kicking wildly.

"_What_? Get them off me!" I screeched, not this _again_. What was it with me and ants?

"Kidding." He laughed, I, on the other hand, didn't see the humor.

"Does my suffering bring you some kind of sick joy?" I growled, exasperatedly, throwing my fists on my hips. I glared at him, I don't know why, but I think I somehow hoped my intense glare would begin to burn a hole in him.

"Sometimes." He shrugged, and returned to face the meadow. I sighed, rubbing my eye.

"If I keep this up, I think you will be the most joyous person alive." I groaned, more to myself, and kicked him lightly before resting back in my place I'd made in the grass.

I closed my eyes and fell straight into a deep sleep.

It felt instantaneous: I closed my eyes, and when I reopened them the sun was across the sky, and a few clouds partially covered it.

Had it really been that long? It must have been about three o'clock. My joints and muscles ached as I tried to sit up straight. The wind wisped what was left of my hair back; it didn't go far. I clutched the cloak tighter as the mountain air whipped at me.

I slowly turned to finally take in the colossal mountains. They were much bigger than the trees, I could say that much. They stood, forever unchanged, in their enormity. I'd only seen mountains in paintings, but I never dreamed I'd be able to see them in real life.

Had we really walked that far yesterday? We certainly couldn't have seen these from where Edward lived.

I was not meant to live outdoors. All the years of physical education in school, which had seemed like torment, seemed like child's play now.

I suddenly felt ashamed of myself, for complaining so much. These mountains had been here for all time; they made my problems seem so trivial. So far, Edward has proven I can trust him (plus I didn't really have any other choice), and he promised I'd be back on my side. _And_ I'm going to see my dad; this is something that never would have been possible without his help.

This forest has stayed the same all these years, and it will stay that way until an outside force acts upon it, whilst my life was changing rapidly. It reassured me that some things still stayed natural and untouched. My heart swelled, and I looked back over to Edward.

He was on the ground on his side, his eyes were closed a small smile rested on his lips; I grinned to myself. I took my hand and ran it through his bronze hair. It was soft and luxurious between my fingers.

I brought my hand back up and smacked his arm harshly.

"Rise and shine." I smirked cruelly; I had the pleasure of watching him leap up violently as if he were about to be attacked. He got in a fighting position as I sat comfortably on the ground. After a few moments of him waiting to defend himself, and me just observing, comprehension flickered in his wide eyes.

He turned his head and glared at me. "What was that for?" He shook the grass of himself, and continued to look at me with irritation.

"Payback hurts doesn't it?" I grinned impishly, and thrust myself off the ground. "Now come on, we're losing daylight." I walked triumphantly towards the fringe of pine trees.

Soon, my legs grew tired again, and I let Edward take the lead, where he began to drag us along due west, vigilantly through the mountains; my legs were utter jelly, but of course I couldn't tell him that.

After walking for what seemed like hours, I let my eyes graze to my right. I saw the same weird tree with the hump that I'd already seen three times already. I looked anxiously up at Edward, who was studying the map closely. His footsteps weren't as sure, and they seemed to be wandering a bit.

"Edward?" I asked flatly. "Where are we?"

He looked at me humorlessly. "The forest. I thought we established that."

"Apparently the forest makes your sense of humor go rotten." I remarked. "I meant do you know exactly where we are?" I pressed.

He hesitated. "No, not exactly." He calculated over the map some more.

"So we're lost?" I said hopelessly, knowing it was the only option.

"No. No, we're not lost." He replied quickly.

"We've been going in circles." I stated, deadpan.

"I'm the one with the map; therefore I know what I'm doing." He shot defensively.

"Clearly, you _don't_, Edward—"

"Yes I do!"

"Oh, _shut up!_" I collapsed on the ground and covered my eyes with the heels on my hands, blocking out everything. "We. Are. Lost." I pronounced carefully.

"No, we're not." He said stubbornly, taking a seat next to me to look at the map some more.

I sighed. "Look, I've been seeing tracks, wheel, human, and horse tracks; we're probably close to a village. We can stop and ask for directions." I resolved logically; he let out a bark laugh.

"We're not stopping and asking for directions. We don't need directions, we have a map." He argued, making imaginative hand motions.

"Why not get both? Why not get directions from people who live here to see if they correspond with the map?"

"I am _not_ stopping and asking for directions." He said with finality.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I yelled. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. "Let me see that stupid map." I yanked it from his hands; I looked it over carefully. He'd made a line of our trail, and where we were. Or, where we were supposed to be. I checked the legend.

"Edward?" I asked emotionlessly. "Tell me; is that river about twenty yards over there on this incredible map?" I replied smartly, pointing to the river in the distance.

"Ah…" He groaned, turning the map front ways and back ways and searching for the river. "…No." He admitted unwillingly.

"Okay Mr. I-Don't-Need-Directions, where to next?"

"Just follow the tracks." He said angrily and got up to lead to the closest village.

After we had gotten to the village, we stopped and asked directions. Turns out we had gone down the wrong side when we had come to that fork a few hours back. The nice man pointed us in the right direction; to tell the truth, Edward was still fuming about being wrong. That wasn't something he was used to.

The good thing was I got practice for being in public. I just stood behind Edward, kept my head down, and only nodded or shook my head if I was addressed. I was once, but Edward answered for me, thankfully. I was sure my voice would either sound very high, or really fake.

As we continued, we passed through many unfamiliar places; he showed me the biggest tracks I'd ever seen. He'd said they were wolf tracks, as calmly as if he'd been saying they were deer tracks. I couldn't fathom how he could so unruffled by paw prints so big

When nightfall hit, I felt as if I would die. When he said, "We're too deep into the wilderness to be travelling at night, we can rest." I felt as if I could sob in joy.

I grabbed the blanket out of the backpack and rested my poor limbs on them; my head hit the ground and I found myself staring right up at the star filled sky. I'd never truly looked at the stars before, they seemed so different now, and I'd never had a chance to just look at them.

"Wow." I breathed, watching them twinkle, Edward's head popped up.

"What?" He asked inattentively.

"The stars." He peered up. I turned my head to what he was doing. He had a bunch of wood piled all together and he was rubbing them together.

"What're you doing?" I mumbled curiously; what good would those things be to us? He took a double take between us.

"Starting a fire." He muttered as-a-matter-of-factly.

"How do you start a fire by doing that?" I sat up now, crawling over to the future fire.

His eyes probed my own as I observed it. "Well you see, when the wood rubs together, it causes friction, which causes heat, thus it—"

"I'm tired—just do what you need to do." I stopped him, while patting his shoulder.

"Have you been living under a rock or something?" He teased, pushing me; he took a small twig and began rubbing it violently against the bigger pieces of wood.

"You could say that." I said in a monotone. Returning to my spot, I listened to the sounds of him rubbing the wood together, and was entranced by the rhythmic sounds it made. Not completely in sleep, but not in full consciousness.

Rapidly, a small light began to shine from where he was building the fire, and I felt the warmth of the fire's glow on my face; prying my eyes open, I saw a tiny clump of flames, desperately climbing towards the sky. And, in one moment, the make-shift camp was brilliantly lit by the blaze.

I was spellbound by the beautiful flames reached upwards. I'd heard of campfires, but I'd never had the chance to sit down and just watch fire act; to watch a creation of Mother Nature act in its barbaric, yet somehow, reserved manner.

The sensation of the voice appeared in my head. _Fire __**is**__ beautiful_, _so free, so hot to the touch…_It cajoled. A chill ran down my spine as I became more disturbingly entranced by the flames. My mind seemed to freeze in place, being controlled like a puppet, and the voice being its master. I felt as if I could get lost in the flames…

Suddenly, Edward smacked his hand around my wrist and ripped my hand upward.

"Are you crazy?" He cried, his gaze burning into my eyes with ferocity.

"What did you do _that_ for?" I yelled. A part of me angry for breaking the trance.

His eyebrows knit together in confusion. "You were reaching your hand to the fire, like you were going to touch it or something. You can get burned really badly by doing that, so knock it off."

I'd been reaching my hand out toward the fire; I'd done it without thinking. A chill of silent dread rang through me, as if I were hallow. I hadn't done that on my own accord. I did _not_ do that.

Not only was this strange voice making me merely feel, it was making me _act_.

Panic rushed through my veins, and I felt unsafe; like I was dangerous. I only stared at Edward dumbly for a few moments, before I broke his reverent gaze; his eyes held worry and confusion in them.

"What did you do that for?" I heard him say, but I was too far gone in my own mind to pay any attention; I just rolled up into a ball under the blanket, and let the cloak block myself off from him. I held my palm to my chest and I let a few tears slip.

I was going insane. I covered my face with the heavy velvet of the cloak and refused to let him see me.

I was losing my mind. I was losing my grip on reality; I would become one of the crazies who lived on the streets. Little, ignorant girls would listen to my inane tales of the male side, and the older, sane, women would brush me off like trash. I would lose myself to this demon-like voice that haunted me, leaving me anxious and watching my shadow, nervously awaiting its return.

Edward had stopped my hand—but what if he hadn't?

I could have been seriously injured; what if I didn't react at all? What if I had let myself get burnt? What if this voice made me do things much worse? I was a threat to everyone I was close to.

I tried to keep my now labored breath low enough so he couldn't hear, but it wasn't without difficulty.

_Get a grip on yourself_, I chanted to myself, _the voice only comes at certain times. If you can avoid it, you can go on without trouble_. I sighed, it was true. It only came certain times, if I could avoid it, maybe its visits would become less frequent. What was making me go insane though? I'd always been completely normal, this only started when I awoke on this side.

Maybe it was the new scenery. I just had to get back to my side, forget about meeting my father.

The voice's presence returned almost instantly at that.

I froze internally, not thinking anything. Why had it returned so easily? It came when I didn't want to continue any further…maybe that was it. I could use this to my advantage.

_Alright_, I thought consciously, _I'll keep going and meet my father, and I won't go back until I do…?_ I thought cautiously, testing out my newfound theory. And, as quickly as it had come, it disappeared into oblivion once more.

Huh, interesting. Maybe, just _maybe_; I could grab this thing by the harness and control it, rein it in. Whatever _this_ was. I would not give into this schizophrenia… or whatever it was.

The inklings of a loosely put together plan, with many grey spots, began to fall into place; as my head worked, I felt the cool rush of air when the cloak was pulled back. My head snapped up, and I found Edward staring at me curiously with worry dominating his eyes.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked, worry plaguing his voice, perhaps because of the unanswered, unorthodox display that I so elegantly exploited only moments ago.

"Sorry."A lie bubbled up my throat and into my mouth. "I was just tired is all…?" His eyes remained in their suspicious manner.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He put his pale hand on my shoulder; I sighed and looked away, unable to lie thoroughly whilst we held eye contact.

"Yeah, I am." I put on a pitifully fake smile, not like the ones Mother gives women she despises, but a smile where I was trying to hide my raging insides. The only time I truly wished for her ability to keep composure, and it eluded me. Just my luck.

"Do you need something to help you sleep?" He asked, kindly. I was dumbstruck for a second—kindness without the sting of sarcasm wasn't something I was used to from him.

"No, thanks." I murmured, rolling over to ignore him.

"What's with you and this pushy independence thing?" He muttered.

"What's with _you_ and this pushy dominance thing?" I replied, irritation flaring up.

"_I'm_ just trying to be nice." He pressed.

"_I'm_ just trying to fend for myself." I leaned closer, our face inches away.

"You want to fend for yourself?" He stood up quickly. "Fine, I don't have to be here, by all means, you go on." He stood pointing in the direction he dared me to go.

The pride turned to rage faster than I could blink, and in one motion, I was up too. "You are so rude!"

"_Me? _What in the world did _I_ do?" We were shouting now.

"_Ugh! _You are the most infuriating person I've ever met!" I screeched my voice raising an octave, and stamped my foot hostilely; I knew in the back of my head, I was blowing this way out of proportion, but I couldn't stop now. The blood was already flowing.

"Really? I was just about to say the same thing about _you!_" He shouted, fire burning hot in his eyes.

Our voices echoed off the trees as the argument escalated, and all the little animals that once surrounded us, hid in fear. Inside, I was at my boiling point, about to explode.

"Well—" I started.

Edward fell silent and his eyes widened. He clamped his hand over my mouth with the quickness of a cat. What nerve this boy had! I was tempted to bite his palm.

In one split second, the scene went from both of us standing, to Edward grabbing me roughly by the waist and throwing me to ground. I hit the leaves with a thud, I was about to fight back when he started dragging us both to a clump of bushes. What was he doing? I didn't think he'd be violent about this.

"What the he—?"

"_Be quiet_." He said harshly into my ear, his eyes burning, commanding me to listen. He lifted off me slightly, to lift his head above the bushes.

I was cut off with harsh realization; he wasn't just keeping me quiet for whatever reason I'd concocted. This wasn't just out of anger.

Something was out there, and he hadn't wanted us out in the open.

His eyes were scanning the forest fervently; his body got rigid, in the hunter's mode I'd seen only a glance of before. With a trained motion, he hastily threw some dirt over the small fire he'd spent so long to build, extinguishing it. He was waiting for something.

"We're being watched." He whispered. keeping me in the loop; pure fear shot through me.

I didn't know if it was by a man or a vicious, carnivorous animal. I wasn't quite sure which was worse. Everything around me slowed down, I wasn't far from being found. Before, I'd been in the security of his home. "_Things aren't as tame over on this side; it's eat or be eaten_," Edward had said, that phrase hadn't seemed as real to me as it did now.

Now I was out in the real world. I'd taken that too lightly; the cloak was meaningless in protecting my identity if I didn't keep the act up. But, I figured it would be safe in the forest.

His arm was across me protectively as he craned his head to examine the surrounding forest; I laid there, silently, shaking in fright.

His eyes flickered to mine, and he thrust his chin toward the bush, "Men." Naturally. "Crawl behind the bush and stay low, let me handle this."

"You're sure you can handle this alone?" I wanted to help, but if I was scrutinized enough, my true identity would be uncovered. At that point, I would be of help to nobody.

"Nope." He shook his head grimly and pushed me a little to go behind the bush; I, unwillingly obeyed and crawled, like the coward I was, behind the mediocre cover of vegetation.

Once I was safely hidden, I saw Edward stand up from the fleeting safety of his hiding place, without another glance to me. My heart pounded as I tried to sink deeper into the vegetation. But, the possibility that they were somewhere behind me kept me frozen; my knees started to scream in protest from carrying my weight, but I barely noticed. I was too enveloped in watching Edward, hoping whatever was watching us would leave.

With no fire, the night was black, with the exception of the pale moonlight of the full moon.

We stayed in that position for a full minute, with Edward bravely (and stupidly) out in the open and me securely (and selfishly) in hiding. And, the once still scene was propelled into motion and filled with life.

Out of the shadows, three, big, tall, silhouettes stepped forward; and they didn't appear as friendly as the men I'd met so far, with their glistening blades and rough looking ropes. This was the dangerous part of this side Edward was referring to.

I was hyperaware of the odds; Edward stood, sturdily in the middle of the treacherous circle that was slowly forming in front of my very eyes, but he didn't let any look of fear into his eyes. He must have been pretending, because, I wasn't even a part of the situation and I felt like a quivering mass of hysterical panic at the moment.

I clamped my own hand over my mouth as my breathing grew intensely strenuous, I was a goner. Edward couldn't win; it was in impossibility. No matter how tough he _thought_ he was, he had to be realistic. I just prayed that when he started to run, I'd be able to keep up.

The three men looked around our age, only one of them looked like he could take Edward on single handedly. But, then again, I'd never witnessed a fight, and I wasn't quite in full understanding of the male anatomy, so I could be wrong. From what I knew, there was strength in numbers; and that certainly wasn't favored for us.

Ha, _us_; what right did I have to say _us_? I was cowering in the shadows as Edward fought; it was more like _him_.

Although they appeared our age, they were intimidating all the same.

I couldn't see them clearly (and frankly, I didn't have much of a desire to), but I wasn't watching them; I was watching Edward. He'd never looked too helpless to me, though his body language didn't give a hint to it.

"Leave thieves," Edward started in a strong, confident voice. "I have nothing of value." I noticed the '_I_' and was suddenly grateful for his ability to lie so thoroughly.

"We'll be the judge of that." The larger one barked in a deep voice, sending a shiver down my spine, and he took a step forward.

In the blink of an eye, Edward was in action; he got into a crouched position and began running straight for the large one, (the one who was obviously the leader). His hand was at his waist, for a minute I panicked, for I thought he'd been hit by a knife; but, I found him taking the long, menacing sword he'd taken out of its sheath.

With a lightning fast motion, he had it out in front of him; he held it skillfully, and it was clear he knew he knew what he was doing. But, the leader knew what he was doing as well.

In a motion just as quick, he grabbed Edwards wrist with such power that it stopped him dead in his tracks; he was now completely at his mercy. My body jerked forward, as an impulse.

Edward couldn't take on those three ridiculously strong men…but, I was so frail, I couldn't help. I would only get myself killed. I wanted to help—but I couldn't! A war raged inside me as my desire to help fought with Logic.

The voice reappeared in my mind, s_tay back!_ It commanded_, don't you dare move!_ Usually I did what the voice told me to, as an advantage to my own self. However, this time was different.

I was prepared to listen to this voice, like a good girl. I couldn't see where the man hit Edward, but I saw his eyes glaze over with unimaginable pain.

All else was silent to me except for Edward's cry of pain. A cry I knew would haunt me. I never could have dreamt how painful that was to hear; it was like, I was dying inside. I was aware of the other two moving to pounce on him.

I snapped.

My eyesight started to blur as I scrambled out of my hiding spot and into the open; I acted on impulse, and jumped up onto one of their backs.

My arms wrapped themselves around his neck, and I squeezed. He cried out, not in pain, but merely in shock; I squeezed as hard as possible and held on as he bucked, trying to dislodge me. I stayed, in my stubbornness, and in my attempt to stay alive.

I knew, in the back of my head, that my chances were slim to none, but I obstinately ignored it. The man struggled and gasped for air as I was flailed around like a fragile rag doll; nevertheless I never let my grip loosen.

I'd never imagined I'd ever strangle someone, let alone a stranger. But desperate times call for desperate measures. And someone crazy enough to strangle a man that could snap you like a twig; yeah, desperate times call for that too.

As if my body already knew what to do, my arms moved away from his neck, and my fingers found his eye sockets; I pressed down and clawed like a maniac.

He screamed a horrible, bloodcurdling scream. I couldn't see what was happening with the other two and Edward, for I'd had my eyes closed the whole time. But, in between groans from Edward I could hear him yelling things like '_stupid'_ and '_run'_ from him. Which I dismissed immediately, for I was already on the bull, I might as well stay on as long as possible.

As I continued to press down onto the man's eyes, I felt warmth spread down my fingers, onto my hands, and down my arms, I refused to make the connection to what it was. I barely noticed it. Foolishly, I felt a sense of victory come over me.

Just then, I felt something hard, an elbow, dig mercilessly into my gut.

All of a sudden, my strength disappeared, all my endurance, and my stamina evaporated into oblivion. I fell to the leaf covered ground, moaning in pain. A sharp sting began spreading across my gut, and I couldn't breathe. I opened my lips and gasped for air, but I couldn't gather any. I couldn't think, couldn't move, and couldn't focus on anything but the pain. I was a sitting duck for the thieves.

A big hand grabbed roughly at the back of my hood and yanked me upward; I was coughing and gasping, only getting a fraction of the oxygen I needed. I saw our bag was being ransacked by one other man, and the last one was holding Edward's hands behind him. I hadn't noticed he was shouting.

I thought it was because of his injury, but he was screaming at me. Because I distracted them? Well my brilliant plan didn't succeed. Perhaps that was why.

'_I'm fine'_ I mouthed to him, (not that he cared) and hid behind my hood.

His eyebrows were downcast and he mouthed '_stupid'_ to me.

I stole a timid glance at the man currently holding me by the back of my cloak. His eyes were blazing and dripping with blood. I looked down and found my hands were streaming with his blood.

"Are you alright?" The leader said to the man I'd attacked, only vaguely as he glared down at Edward, not letting his guard down.

He let out a string of curses, "No." He growled and yanked me back some more.

As he yanked back my hood, it fell from my head, and my full feminine face was revealed.

"Hey!" Edward shouted. "Leave her alone!"

Her. _Her_.

Edward, you idiot.

His eyes widened when he realized what he'd said. My fuller lips, my longer eyelashes, my cleaner skin (that wasn't from genetics, it was only proof. I hadn't lived here my whole life), and my heart pendant (which conveniently decided to fall out right then). All ties connecting to that one resonant 'her'.

All the men, except for Edward, huffed in shock; the man holding me dropped me out of surprise and I fell to the ground with a resounding thud.

"It's a… what do you call 'em? Oh yeah, a _woman!_" The other one exclaimed. The leader stepped up."The legends are true." He gawked; I cringed, expecting them to pounce on me, due to my obvious weak body strength.

But _they_ were the ones that cringed back, afraid. They moved away from me, shuffling back. Fear clouded their eyes. Why?

I sat there, silently, soaking it all in, and they just stared in amazement; finally the leader got irritated.

"Well, come on, get her!" He scorned the one whom I hadn't poked his eyes out, the other man was still moaning at that.

"Why don't you do it?" He replied, a look of pure alarm in his eyes.

"Because I told _you_ to do it." He snarled; Edward sat there, just as stunned as I at this turn of events.

"What if the stories are true, man, what if she can make a man turn to stone with just one look? And the fire thing? And all the other rumors?" The other man asked shakily. Turn to—what? _Stone_? _Fire?_

Then a beautiful, horrible, impossible, plan appeared to me, like a beacon; I smiled to myself.

I moved closer to Edward, and they moved farther back; I glared at them as I picked him up by the arm and dragged his frozen self over to where I stood. His expression was one of sheer bewilderment as he sat on his knees.

"That's right," I called; my voice was tempted to shake a bit. "What if the stories _are_ true?" I laughed, trying to come off as confident, in control, and not about to break down crying.

Edward turned to me, his eyes full of confusion, but his face stayed as composed as possible when he leaned over.

"Bella, where are you going with this?" He whispered uneasily. I shushed him and moved to straighten my posture; I stood proudly, trying to look upon them as Mother did the Crazies on the street.

"You have no idea of the awesome power I possess." I raised my hands, and they shrank back. _You really have no idea_, I thought shakily to myself.

"Wait a second," the leader interrupted an accusing look on his face. "I think she's bluffing." My insides shattered like glass, and I gulped.

"Are you sure?" I cocked an eyebrow, about to turn on my heels and run any second. He didn't reply. "Are you positive you want to take that risk?"

"What can you do, exactly?" The second one asked; my mind raced for the remnants of my imagination.

"I…can make the moon round, look in the sky," I pointed at the full moon, and their eyes followed. "I wanted a full round moon tonight…I did that. We women take turns deciding how the moon is going to look each night... and the weather."

I don't think I'd ever felt as stupid as I did at that moment.

By the way he was staring incredulously at me I could tell Edward thought so too.

But they gasped in astonishment, anyway. I couldn't believe it, my plan was working. They were really buying my lies. Which made me second guess the mental capacity of men…

"Wait, what's he for?" The leader pointed to Edward, who vehemently trying to undo the ropes around his wrists.

"Oh," I chuckled and rested my hand on Edward's head, racking my head for something. "He is my pet." I smiled, stroking his hair.

"I'm your what?" He asked flatly, low enough so only I could hear.

"I have the power to enslave anyone I wish, but he was very willing so it was easier." I stroked his head once more. I knew I was going to pay for that later. In an attempt to keep the act up, Edward stayed quiet, but I knew he was fuming inside. I decided to have a little fun with it. I beamed; the lies were just flowing out like a waterfall.

"How come you haven't enslaved us?" The second one asked suspiciously. My act fumbled for a split second before composing myself again; I scrambled for a reply.

"Well, enslaving someone takes a lot of time and… uh _womanly magic_ and you all really aren't as strong and as obedient as him—"

"Wait just a minute." I held my breath, thinking they'd seen through my charade. "So you're saying, we're _not_ good enough for you, but this dandelion is?" They pointed to Edward.

I could hear a low growl escape him; I stoked his hair once more, this time really trying to soothe him. The conversation had taken a very strange turn. I couldn't believe they'd called Edward a dandelion. If _he_ was a dandelion, I must have been like… air or something. But it was pretty funny.

"So…" I started, real confusion coming down upon me. "You _want_ to be my slaves?"

"Well no but… Really _him_?" The second one asked, in a high voice pointing to Edward once more. I could tell all of this beating down on him was really taking its toll.

"What's wrong with _him_?" I decided to be nice and defend Edward. "Ugh you all annoy me." I threw my hand over my forehead dramatically. "Leave our things here and flee so I won't have to use my incredible powers to burn you all to crisp."

They just stared unsurely at me, like I held all the answers; I determined that I should take it a step further. I raised my arms once more and took a sturdy stance under the moonlight. "From the power of the…er _Moon Goddess_, I command you to use your…uh _ambient light_ to burn these wretches to a crisp."

And in a flash, they dropped our possessions and ran like I'd never seen anyone run before; they disappeared through the trees.

I sighed and sat down on the ground, "Glad that's over." I exhaled, glancing to the moon. I waited for Edward to say something. "What's wrong with _you_?" I shoved his arm, his eyes were downcast.

"Let me explain this seemingly simple concept, to you; which you seemed to turn it into something unnecessarily complex." He turned to me. "When I tell you to 'lay low' and 'be quiet', that does not mean, 'jump out' and 'attack someone much bigger than you like a rabid maniac'."

"Uh…" I started, feeling a blush creep up my neck.

"Oh, _oh_, and that whole 'I _can control the moon, and enslave people'_ thing was so…" He imitated me. "I mean, if they hadn't been so stupid, they wouldn't have believed it for a second."

I sat there, with a blank expression. "I do _not_ sound like that." Was all I could say, because everything he said was true. "But they bought it anyway."

"Since when did I become your pet? What was that? Why couldn't you have made me have super speed, strength, and stunning good looks?" He motioned with his palms.

I began to laugh hysterically and roll on my side.

"First of all, that wouldn't be consistent; we were focusing on _women_ powers, and they would have expected you to use those awesome powers in battle. Face it Edward: you're just not as cool as I am." I patted his shoulder belittlingly and crawled under the covers.

He grunted frustrated. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight…_pet_."

**Any guesses as to who they are? **

**Review for the rest of the teaser:**

"_**Thank you so much for letting my friend and I stay here." He said sincerely, I could only smile at Edward's tone, while keeping my head down. **_

_**I couldn't help but steal a glance at the owner, but when I looked to him, I found something abnormal. The elderly man was trembling in the most peculiar way; my eyebrows furrowed. **_

"_**N-no problem, s-stay here as long as you l-like." He nodded, but his whole body was rigid. I ripped my eyes away from him and glanced at Edward questioningly. What exactly had he done to convince this man to let us stay here? He wasn't looking at me, he was looking at the old man.**_

_**Edward's face was genuine, but something was off about the scene.**_

_**The man led us to a room and left us alone, that's when I decided it was safe to ask him.**_


	12. Chapter 11

**Some of you have been asking—where's the romance? I thought this was an Edward/Bella story? Well, I can tell you, it will be trickling in with a lot more frequency in the ensuing chapters. Then, without realizing it, you will find yourself almost drowning in it.**

**Chapter 11**

I think I might actually kill Edward; slaughter him in his sleep. Or maybe something more sadistic.

For one thing, his constant waterfall of snarky comments regarding my obvious inability to survive in the wild have, driven me to the edge. When he said he was going to go hunt for something to eat, and I shuddered, he just rolled his eyes and replied '_fine, starve'_. But he brought back enough food in spite of it.

Second, although he brought food and dropped the whole pet thing, it seemed as if he was just too determined to get where we're going; heaven forbid I want to rest every millennium or so. I guessed it was his lack of comprehension of just how little physical preparation I had, but he visibly saw that. He just kept pushing me; he was holding a fire under me. Like he was cracking a whip to keep me going.

Anyway, I took a look at the map, and we were almost there (after three full days of hiking); the village, strangely, did not have a name, merely a number. My father lived in village 261. Edward said that only the recorded villages, there are many more out there.

When I wasn't lost in my thoughts, I found my murderous impulses could be stifled, but not easily; I no longer wanted to cause a disturbance in the seemingly indestructible forests of the male side and attract more bandits. I'd had my fill last time. Edward was right (in that instant) if more robbers came, and they weren't as gullible, we would be dead. However he wouldn't believe that, I wasn't sure how strong he thought he is, but surely, he had enough reason to deduct that if I hadn't jumped in, he would have been beaten. Or worse.

I was losing myself. I found I thought about my side less and less, everyday, and that it didn't worry me as much as it really should. And as much as Edward made me want to knock someone out, his attitude kept me grounded and away from having a complete mental breakdown. With his cynical humor, I have no time to fret about the conflict inside me. Sometimes, I did want to strangle him, but other times I wanted to thank him for being hospitable.

_Oh Alice_, I thought to myself_, if only you could see me now. Would you recognize me?_

Poverty, violence, and utter stupidity were things I'd been kept from on my side. It's as if I'd woken up from a dream by coming here. At first, this world had seemed like the dream, a nightmare even. It _still_ was a nightmare. But now…I wasn't sure which side was real and which was the dream.

I took the liberty of learning how to start a fire; I'd felt too vulnerable having no knowledge in this field, and I didn't want to have to depend on Edward. Starting a fire roots back to Miss Newton's lessons in science…friction causes heat (like Edward had tried to explain before); simple enough.

It looked pretty on paper, but actually doing it was even harder. It took me almost two hours to gather up enough friction to create a spark, and by that time, my hands were blistered and about to bleed. I was ready to give up when a small fire popped up. I was elated by the fact that I created something with my own hands.

Then it started to rain.

As much as the forest was a picture of hell, it was also a majestic portrait of beauty; earlier, I'd seen a tiny, little fawn, struggling to walk. I'd never been so entranced by an animal, but when I tried to touch it, it ran away faster than I could blink.

Later, when Edward had brought back a dead animal, I thought I'd throw up, just like I had the first time he brought back raw food from a hunt; but I found my stomach was only a little bit churned by the sight. Edward said it because I was getting used to it; I prayed that he was lying. Getting used to eating freshly dead animals was not on my bucket list.

He cooked it over a fire (one he'd built. Of the course the rain hadn't come when _he_ built it), and I surprisingly ate my entire share. I was deeply astonished at myself, before I had been scared to eat trail mix, when it was just dried up fruit. I loved to eat trail mix, now. Nowadays, I was eating freshly dead animals. What was next? Cannibalism?

I was not as tired as I used to be when I walked; I could feel my legs muscles getting stronger, myself getting stronger. I could walk farther and farther every day. My body was adjusting to the conditions of nature. That was a very good thing; it showed I at least had some strength to endure.

Now, I trudged behind Edward, as the sun set over the horizon; the map indicated we only had a less than a mile to the village, but I hadn't seen any signs of civilization. We weren't going to take a break until we got there. It made me wonder how we were going to find a place to stay, but I was so eager to just get there, I didn't bother asking.

My heart beat fast, but not because of the physical exertion. For the past three hours, I'd been practicing what to say to my father when I saw him. I also had been flipping over the necklace again and again to read what he'd written there; to be sure he'd be happy when he saw me.

Would he recognize me? Certainly not, I'd grown so much. Did he ever meet me? Would he be happy to see me? Or would he have changed over the years and not want to see me? Would he mistake me for a man? Would he ask about Mother? Did he still love her? So many questions I longed for an answer to.

Soon enough, my enthusiasm had taken over and I passed up Edward and took the lead; he didn't protest, which I was thankful for.

"I'm excited!" I exclaimed to Edward, with a big grin on my lips. He had a warm smile upon his sympathetic face, like I was a child he was watching get a brand new toy.

I twiddled my thumbs anxiously as I saw a small glimpse of light up ahead, the light of society; my stride grew faster, and soon I was half running. Shortly after, I felt a hard tug on the hood of the cloak.

"Alright Bella, before you get ahead of yourself, you have to be careful. First of all," He turned to look me in the eye, I just stared back, and pouting that he'd popped my happiness bubble. He took the hood in his hands and pushed it over my eyes. "Cover your face. Second, keep your head down, and walk behind me like a shadow. And just to cover all our bases, let me do that talking. You're officially a mute."

"So controlling." I rolled my eyes when he gave me a hard look. "Sure, I'll do it."

"Good, let's go." I leapt up and started jogging downhill toward the village.

Not knowing what to expect, I broke through the fringe of trees—

— And my jaw dropped to ground. A _village_?

It was a colossal metropolis. It was bigger than Hollow Wood! It had reflective buildings, made out a metal looking material, though they were almost as tall as the towering trees. The streets were lined with merchants, and the streets were filled with buyers. Men rode of the strangest contraptions with two wheels, with metal bodies. They pedaled while they moved.

"What are those?" I blurted out, forgetting I was mute.

He gave me a warning look. "Bicycles. Now get behind me." Edward whispered in my ear as he moved to block me from view. "Follow me." He murmured lowly in my ear, I just nodded soberly.

_Just play it cool_, the voice echoed in my head, and I did without any argument. I looked at my feet as I shuffled slowly behind Edward through the crowds; I accidentally gasped sometimes when a man would bump into me, but I tried to stifle it.

_Be a shadow, be a shadow._

It grew even darker in the city (Edward taught me that word for places that were too big to be villages, towns, or even colonies. It was hardly just a village), and we walking into what looked like a suburban area, and Edward took a sharp turn left to a relatively nice looking house. There was much of this 'concrete' Edward had talked about back at home—I mean _his house_.

"Okay, just stay out here and blend into the wall," His eyes snapped over to a few men walking by, who were glancing at us suspiciously. "Don't draw attention to yourself, we'll stay here for tonight and find your father in the morning." His eyes were mediated, serious. I could only nod, feeling much too tired for a reunion at the moment anyway. I turned around and hid on the side of the house, trying to look inconspicuous.

In much shorter time than I had predicted, Edward came around the corner, with a warm grin on his face.

"Come on, but don't look the owner in the eye, and remember 'mute'." He prompted me. I rolled my eyes: you slip up once, and you're branded for life.

"Fine." I squeaked, eager to do whatever it took to get some sleep in a bed. One that had no horrible, poking, springs and wasn't the forest floor.

I hadn't questioned how Edward had gotten the man to agree to let us stay there, but at the time I frankly didn't care.

We walked through an arched doorway, and I made sure to keep my head down, as I said I would. Edward smiled to him in a friendly way.

"Thank you so much for letting my friend and I stay here." He said sincerely, I could only smile at Edward's tone, while keeping my head down.

I couldn't help but steal a glance at the owner, but when I looked to him, I found something abnormal. The elderly man was trembling in the most peculiar way; my eyebrows furrowed.

"N-no problem, s-stay here as long as you l-like." He nodded, but his whole body was rigid. I ripped my eyes away from him and glanced at Edward questioningly. What exactly had he done to convince this man to let us stay here? He wasn't looking at me; he was looking at the old man.

Edward's face was genuine, but something was off about the scene.

The man led us to a room and left us alone, that's when I decided it was safe to ask him.

"Edward," I started cautiously. "What did you…why was that man—"

"Shaking?" He finished, sadly.

"Um…Yes." I admitted.

"He's a terribly sick old man." He answered with a hint of melancholy in his eyes; my heart sank. And I had possessed suspicions, I was so terrible. I felt so awful at that point for doubting him.

"Oh, that's so depressing." I sighed, looking up at him.

"It is." He agreed. Then, his started to pull his shirt up and over himself; my arms shot to cover my eyes, as an instinct. What was he _doing_?

"Why are you _shirtless_?" I gasped, shocked, that certainly wasn't an acceptable thing to do on my side. I peeked over my arm to look at his face; it was contorted in confusion. I kept my arm over my face, only letting me peek up to see his face.

I didn't want to admit that the glimpse I'd caught with his shirt off pleased me in a way I didn't understand.

"What?" He shrugged as if it were no big deal.

"Your shirt."

"Don't be so flattered, I didn't do this for your enjoyment; it's just really stuffy in here." He rolled his eyes.

"_Moron_." I spat and rolled over. "By the way, you're sleeping on the floor." I commanded, pointing. I felt a twinge of sadness—why did part of me want for him to be in the bed with me? It must have been exhaustion…

"You couldn't get me in there with you if you held a knife to my throat." He taunted, crossing his arms over his chest; a splash of black caught my eye.

"What's that on your arm?" I asked, still eyeing it. It was an intricately designed tattoo in black ink, his eyes glanced to it.

A look I didn't understand flashed across his eyes, then, as soon as it had appeared, it was gone. It had looked like he was worried, like I wasn't supposed to see that.

"Don't tell my dad, alright? Jas, Em and I were being idiots one day and we all got tattoos, no big deal." He joked lightheartedly, I merely smiled.

"Sure." I rolled my eyes and got myself settled in the bed.

"Night."

"I hope you never wake up."

**And so the plot thickens… Well, sort of. The events that took place in this chapter may seem insignificant now, but in all actuality, something important happened. It will all be revealed later. **

**If you haven't guessed already, I usually have a short chapter right before a long chapter with lots of drama in it. If not, I haven't been doing my job… So you can guess now that tomorrow's chapter is majorly important (since this is roughly only 2,400 words)**

**You know the drill, review for the rest of the teaser:**

_**Then suddenly, he took my hand in his. **_

_**I gasped; a tingling sensation in my hand began climbing up my arm. Our hands fit together perfectly. I could only gawk as my hand grew warmer and warmer; I didn't dare look at him. What was I to do? Keep it there? Pull away? I knew the logical answer was to pull away, but as I started to, I found something tugging within me to stop and to keep it there. I was shocked at myself, stop being stupid, I scolded. He seemed to be as confused as I was, for he didn't make any move closer or away.**_

_**My heart beat took off, and my thoughts cluttered—the only clear image being my hand in his.**_

_**Why did this feel so new? I'd held hands with Alice, when we were younger, but only out of friendship. I loved her like a sister, I would die for her, but it never felt like this. My head was screaming to take my hand away, but something inside me wanted to keep it there; why was this tiny gesture so meaningful, and complicated?**_


	13. Chapter 12

**Dun, dun, dun! Epic chapter…!**

**Chapter 12**

Edward woke me up early, saying we had to leave before anyone had the time to remember our faces; he made sure we didn't wake up the owner as we left. I was extremely anxious to finally meet my father.

"Alright," He started. "I'm going to go into the most populated part of the village to ask for the right house. Here—" He handed me the intimidating sword, I almost refused to take it, but I grasped it in my shaky hands, despite that. "Stay here, and try to not draw unnecessary attention to yourself. If you need to defend yourself, threaten someone with this. I'll leave our supplies with you."

I gulped; this weapon could _kill_. I nodded all the same though, taking the backpack as well, and watched as the only person standing between me and danger walked away, and into the crowded market place. I sighed, and my limbs shook.

_Oh…_ I moaned internally, I felt like I was naked in a crowd; I felt so vulnerable. _I've got to go to an isolated spot. _

My legs carried me swiftly away, putting the sword safely away in my cloak and the supplies slung over my shoulder; I spotted a wrought iron fence, I raced toward it caught between a walk and a run, looking over my shoulder from time to time.

I whipped around to look beyond the fence, and stopped dead in my tracks; it was a cemetery.

Obviously it wasn't kept very well; weeds had make cracks in some of the older stones. I swallowed the eerie feeling that had gathered in the pit of stomach and stepped over the metal.

I spotted a dark silhouette in the distance, under a tree by a tombstone in the ground; my instinct told me to just walk away, but my heart tugged out toward it. I did a double take from where I came and quickly made my way to where he sat.

When I finally reached him, I stayed a good five feet behind him. I saw what he was kneeling in front of; it was an old wooden cross, staked into the ground. He was wearing a ratty old cloak, (even worse than mine) with patches and tears.

"Hello?" I called softly. "Are you okay?" I asked, trying to mediate my voice to be manly. He whipped around, keeping the hood over his face.

"Go away." He said huskily; I realized it wasn't a man, but a boy; he must have been my age or close. He had been crying?

"What's wrong?" I asked more forcefully.

"I said, _go away."_ His hood fell back and his face was revealed, I gasped and took an automatic step back.

It was one of the thugs from last night. The leader, in fact.

Except that the vicious look in his eyes was gone. It was replaced with that look of hopelessness; my fear melted away, but I kept my fingers wrapped around the handle of the sword, just in case.

His face was streaked with tears and his eyes were puffy; my eyes trailed over to the small, nameless, wooden cross crudely stuck in the earth.

"It's you." I whispered, ready to run away.

"Yeah it's _me_." Fear came into his eyes. "Listen; please don't hurt me, with your powers!"

"Powers?" I asked naively, and then realization flickered in me. "Oh yeah, those, um…I'm not using them today." I brushed it off, trying to get to the root of the issue.

"Huh?"

"Were you crying?" I pushed, changing the subject; I couldn't take my gaze away from the cross planted in the ground. Why didn't it have a name?

"You have two working eyes, what do you think?" He spat venomously.

"Who is that?" I asked, truly curious; who could have possibly been this important to a robber.

"None of your business." He turned back around; fire burned in me and I sat down beside him.

"Look, I'm not leaving until I know you're okay." I didn't make any move to touch him, I was afraid my voice would crack when I said that; I gripped the sword tighter.

"Why do _you_ care?" He looked over, a hint of interest in his eyes, but it was overshadowed with pain.

"Because I have a terrible conscience!" I grunted, crossing my arms over my chest, forgetting to stay out of trouble.

"_Ha!_ That's a good one."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"I saw what you did to my friend, he might go blind now." He spewed, with pain in his eyes; I felt as if I would sink into the ground. Oh. I had done _that_? Oh yeah; I _had_ done that.

"Oh…I'm so sorry." I offered whole heartedly.

"Save your apology for someone who wants to hear it."

"Hey, you're the one who was trying to rob us!" I replied; how dare he accuse me of not having a conscience when he had been so ready to slaughter us? "You would have killed Edward if I hadn't intervened. You wouldn't have cared."

He turned his face away from me and into the shadows; I saw his hand tentatively come up to stroke the wooden cross.

"Look, I genuinely want to know what's wrong, I'm not as terrible as you think I am," He turned to look at me, I held my breath and I said what I said next. "And I know you're not either." I honestly didn't know if that were true, it just sounded like a good thing to say.

He let out a cold laugh, and his eyes glazed over. "You don't know anything." His hand had fallen from the cross.

"That may be true, but I'm just trying to help."

"I don't want any of your _help_." He put his back to me and got really quiet.

I could see the conversation was over.

I sighed and took out a small cake Edward had taught me to make; I was saving it for later, however, he probably needed it more than I.

I placed it on the ground next to him. "Enjoy." I muttered.

I started to walk away from him. I wondered how I was going to find Edward; I wondered how far away my father lived—

"What's this?" He asked, peeking at me from over his shoulder.

"A cake." I said nonchalantly while gazing up at the sky.

"I guessed that much, but why are you giving _me_ one?" He asked, truly shocked. His eyes were full of so many emotions, it broke my heart. He was so lost.

"Why so surprised?" I said, trying to find out what exactly the deal was with him.

"Strangers don't usually give a 'trouble maker' like me anything, let alone a _cake_." He said, as-a-matter-of-factly while biting into it hastily.

"I gave it to you for the same reason I asked what was wrong in the first place." I didn't meet his stare as I said this, it was best to give him some space.

"Hm." Was all he said as he bit into it again.

"Why are you a 'trouble maker'?" I asked; his happy face slipped.

"We have to steal to survive." He murmured, staring at the pastry he held in his hands.

"Who is 'we'?" I probed.

"Remember the two guys you saw me with last night?"

"Oh."

"Yeah." He said tightly. "It's survival of the fittest out here." He mused. I didn't say anything. I remembered Edward had said the same thing not too long ago. "What's it like on the other side?" He asked, suddenly curious.

I realized the pattern then. They all had been curious, like me. I had yearned for some other world outside of my home, to know something besides allt he stifling existed. They had all wondered the same thing. As great as the side was, it was brutal. Horrible, even. They only longed to know there was something without all this death and despair somewhere.

"_None of your business_." I quoted him from earlier, despite my revelation, I heard him growl in frustration. After a good long silence he finally spoke again.

"This is my mom." He whispered, stroking the rotting wood. "She died when The Wall went up." He said grudgingly. "She wouldn't go to the other side." He whispered, his voice raising an octave. Sorrow overcame me.

"I'm so sorry." I whispered at the same level as he.

"Me too." I was going to ask him to elaborate, but I didn't need to. "If I didn't run and hide, she wouldn't have stayed, and tried to find me. I could have saved her, and told her to leave." He was no longer talking to me, he was obviously musing some deep rooted things. I didn't say anything, for I could only stare in admiration at the cross.

She wouldn't leave her son, and it cost her, her life. She hadn't deserved to die.

"She must have really loved you."

"Yeah." He muttered. "I answered your question, that's what's wrong with me. Now answer mine." I didn't like the way he said it. What was wrong with him?

"Nothing's wrong with you." I said softly.

"S'not what I asked." He murmured, chewing on the last piece of his cake. I thought about my side, unwillingly.

"My life was planned, every little thing about it, was all set out nicely and neatly. It's boring, the houses are all stone, all the clothing dresses, all so refined. Everything is handed to you, no adventure." I said truthfully. I heard him chuckle.

"I'd like a little stability in my life." He laughed softly.

"Then you can take my place over there." I laughed back, and paused. Had I really just said that?

"Sure, sure." Pride washed through me as I finally broke through his carefully composed mask; _score one for Bella_.

"How'd you get here?" He asked, suddenly very curious.

"I don't know." I replied honestly. "I wish I knew. One day I was at school, and the next I found myself in Edward's house with a head injury. That's the man you saw me with." I told him.

"Too bad."

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Jacob." He replied, his eyes turning away from the grave for half a second.

"Bella."

He seemed to ponder that. "Cool, and don't worry, I won't tell anyone you're here." I sighed in relief, for I hadn't even thought of that.

"Thank you." I said sincerely, and then went into the bag to get something; I brought out a small back of fruits and handed them to him. He just stared at them, as if he'd never seen something like this before.

"Why are you doing this?"

"You said you had friends right?" I smiled, hoping he'd understand. Awareness flashed in his eyes as he took them, I thought I'd made some good progress.

"Wow." He just stared at the bag like it was a foreign concept to him.

My eyes tracked to where I was supposed to be waiting for Edward; "I have to go." I murmured, when I looked back at Jacob, he looked incongruously saddened.

"Okay, bye Bells." Bells? Somehow, that seemed even more intimate than Bella. My heart fluttered.

"Goodbye— oh and Jacob?" I asked, suddenly ashamed by the memory. "That other boy—the one I hurt—can you make sure he gets two? And that he knows I'm sorry?" I said sheepishly, he just nodded, his eyes growing darker.

"Oh, and if you ever come back to Ole' Rust, find me okay? I usually come to this place." He inquired hopefully; what was Ole' Rust?

"Ole' Rust?"

"Yeah, they gave this city that weird number name, but all the locals call it Ole' Rust." He commented, seeming a little smug for holding the knowledge.

"Interesting." We'd never referred Hollow Wood to anything besides its name, it just wasn't right.

Before I went back to the marketplace, I shook his hand (I was proud I still knew what that was and was able to use it effectively), then we parted ways. I still couldn't believe I was able to accomplish something as big as to getting someone like him to talk to me. Someone who wasn't as much as an open book as Edward. It was a nice feeling, helping someone, making them feel better, even a little.

"Where have you been? I've been worried sick!" Edward's voice broke through my thoughts like a knife to butter; I held my hands up in front of me as he stalked towards me.

"Look, calm down—"

"_Calm down_? I've been worried sick and all you can say is calm down?" What was wrong with him? He was blowing this way out of proportion; he started pacing worriedly.

I took him by the arm and dragged him away from the crowds, and into an isolated alley; I looked around for anyone who might be listening before I continued.

"Okay, you need to breath for a second."

"_Breathe_?" He mocked again; a slow, steady anger started to build in the pit of my stomach.

"Yes, _Edward_, breathe." I commanded, hoping he'd drop it; why was he acting like this?

He let out a deep breath and started pacing in the middle of the alleyway, he looked like if he were about to jump out of his skin. My confusion only heightened, he was so different than the Edward I'd known. For some reason, in some primal way, it pleased me that he was so worried about me; so protective.

"But really, what if you'd been hurt?" He stood still, searching my eyes.

I paused, "And what would that mean to _you_?" I questioned, more suspicious than livid.

His eyes widened in surprise, like I'd caught him doing something bad. I felt a smile spread across my face, he looked horrified.

"Well, ah…" He scrambled.

"Come on Edward, you can tell me." I smiled even more; this was great, this meant he cared at least a little bit about me. I rested my hands on hips, letting the smugness show in my demeanor.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, "There's nothing to tell." He tried to recover.

"That wasn't 'nothing'." I grinned knowingly.

"Um…"

"Admit it, Edward: you like me. I'm growing on you." I threw my hands across my chest, I dragged the information out. His eyes widened in defiance.

His cheeks went deep red. "Oh you are so _conceited_, that cannot be farther from the truth." He backtracked.

"Then why did you bite my head off?" Alice would definitely be proud of me for being able to keep up a good argument.

He rolled his eyes, "Oh please, you had my sword, and if they had kidnapped you, they would have taken it. That's all I was worried about. That's a great sword."

"Yeah." I nodded, not buying it. "Sure, that's it."

"I was just worried okay? I would have come all this way for nothing." He defended.

"You can worry all you want, but don't yell at me like I'm a child." I ordered, shoving him back toward the wall.

"Ugh." He refused to meet my gaze.

"Got that?" I pressed, wanting him to say it.

"Yes." He groaned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes, _what_?" I used the voice Mother always used when she wanted me to call her ma'am.

"Yes…what?" He asked; I realized he wouldn't know what to say, never having to call anyone ma'am.

"Just watch it." I pushed off him and waited lividly.

He sighed pushing himself off the wall, "Let's go see him."

My eyes lit up, and all my anger disappeared, "My father?"

His eyes rolled so far I thought they'd pop out of his head, "No."

Then suddenly, he took my hand in his.

I gasped; a tingling sensation in my hand began climbing up my arm. Our hands fit together perfectly. I could only gawk as my hand grew warmer and warmer; I didn't dare look at him. What was I to do? Keep it there? Pull away? I knew the logical answer was to pull away, but as I started to, I found something tugging within me to stop and to keep it there. I was shocked at myself, _stop being stupid_, I scolded. He seemed to be as confused as I was, for he didn't make any move closer or away.

My heart beat took off, and my thoughts cluttered—the only clear image being my hand in his.

Why did this feel so new? I'd held hands with Alice, when we were younger, but only out of friendship. I loved her like a sister, I would die for her, but it never felt like this. My head was screaming to take my hand away, but something inside me wanted to keep it there; why was this tiny gesture so meaningful, and complicated?

"Ah…" He slipped his hand out of mine; I didn't meet his gaze as we walked back into the bustling streets of Ole Rust. What an awkward moment.

I let it go and focused on the encounter to come.

My heart necklace seemed to be alive, burning fiercely against the skin of my throat; I had to ball up my hands to stifle my enthusiasm.

Before, on my side, I never knew I had a father; never _dreamed_ of such a thing. My heart thudded loudly against my chest, but I kept my head hidden from the male faces. But, now I had the opportunity no one else had; to know both my parents. I stole a glance to Edward, who was walking silently in front of me; I supposed I had him to thank for that.

The sun beat down on me once again, and a wave of déjà vu hit me; in Edward's place was a vision of Mother, and I was on my own side. Weaving through the crowded marketplace, with my hair long again, and me wearing a corset which had me in a strangle hold. One similarity stood out, now, on the male side, I had to keep my head down and remain inconspicuous; just for a different reason. In the memory, I kept my head down just because I was afraid of Mother, and also for respect. Now, I had to do it for my life. It disturbed me by the uncanny resemblance.

I went back to busying my mind with the matter at hand; my father. I shivered; yes, that was a little more pressing. What would I say? Questions whirred frantically in my head, and before I knew it, Edward stopped in front of a relatively small home.

"Alright," He turned to me, with a prepared look on his face. "I have an idea."

"Go." I prompted anxiously, he held out his hands to point at the door.

"I go in there first, just to read him a bit, and prepare him; then I come back to get you. Does that seem fair?" He asked, I nodded furiously in reply, wringing my hands together nervously.

"Oh, Edward; what if he doesn't like me?" I seethed, worriedly, not bothering to notice how vulnerable and needy I sounded.

"It will be fine, I'm sure he'll think the world of you." He placed his hand on my shoulder, as he said this, and his eyes held a deep emotion that cut through me and settled in my chest; then, he shooed me away so he could knock on the door.

I went to hid behind a bush, in a daze; had he just genuinely nice to me? Without a catch? Sure, he'd been kind before, but it was never without a snide insider to diffuse it. Usually, it was something about me being stupid or something; he really _did_ just encourage me.

An embarrassing giggle escaped me, the happiness flowing through me freely for the first time ever coming to this side. I had no worries, for a moment. It was like a drug. It was almost as if I could fly.

Along with his kindness, a new sensation arose. Not really a new one, it was merely heightened to a dangerous level. What was it? It was strange, and it made me feel as light as air. It caused me to not act like myself; I wondered if it had a name.

The sound of the front door opening and closing once more, I leapt up excitedly.

"Fa—"I started to call, but it was merely Edward standing there. He had the most peculiar look on his face; sadness? No, that couldn't possibly be it.

"Can I go in now?" I asked gleefully, almost jumping up and down; his face stayed stoic.

"He's not here anymore." He choked out; I cocked an eyebrow in confusion. Why was he acting like this?

"Well then do you know where he is now?" I asked; surely if he lived in another house we could find him, or even another village. I prayed Edward would take me wherever he was.

He swallowed hard, covering up his face with a mask of calm. "No, Bella," He said my name carefully. "You're not getting it." He said slowly, and sighed. "Yeah, I know where he is."

I gasped. "Please can we go?" I begged, ready to get on my knees. A conflagration in my chest burned brightly. I knew I had to find him one way or another; Edward's face sank, but he nodded.

"Okay, follow me." As he walked once again into the road, I saw him holding a small book in his hand. I was about to ask where he got that, but I didn't bother.

As we walked, the tension rose; and I finally noticed we were going back the way we came. Something was wrong; I could feel it in my gut. My joyful mood melted into the ground I walked on, as I trailed behind Edward.

Something told me I didn't want to know where we were going anymore, like I was repressing something my subconscious already knew. We continued to walk, and a feeling of terror began to overtake me.

"Edward, where exactly are we going?"

He never answered.

His body blocked my view, and he turned into a gate. A wrought iron fence. My mind blocked what I knew was coming; I couldn't process it.

Soon enough, I found myself face to face with my father— at a gravesite.

Withered and old, it was as if it'd been there forever.

His name was etched in the stone; I knew it was him because of my last name. I passively noted that Mother kept it instead of her maiden name. What I didn't know was, his first name; it was Charlie. Somehow, it fit.

He was dead.

A horrified sob ripped up my insides, and my knees gave way; Edward just stood there quietly, as I began to break down, piece by piece.

This whole time, the only thing keeping me halfway sane was the endeavor to know my father, to have _someone_ in this cruel, new world that loved me. I'd put all of my hopes, so much effort, into getting here, and it was all in vain. _All for nothing_. It was almost as if I was finally letting go of my grip on something important, as if this news had jerked me away from the edge. I was now falling, spiraling down. I had lost it. I had lost everything.

All of my emotions flooded within me like a giant tidal wave. Shock, denial, misery, anger. How could he be dead? How could he leave before I got a chance to talk to him? How could he do this to me?

No, it wasn't true; this was a terrible dream. This whole experience, this whole _side_, had to be fake. Nothing this cold, cruel, this tortuous could exist; I yearned for my own side, my old ignorance back.

I wanted to wake up, to the morning sunlight streaming through my curtains; I wanted to get back to Alice— to Mother. To everything. But, _no_, I had wanted to know; I'd always doubted my side, the government. It had seemed like a sick joke now.

I didn't know that knowledge came with such a heavy price. My dignity, my limits, my _hair_, and now, the father I never knew.

Of course, I wasn't that lucky. On top of that, I was still stuck on this side.

I finally understood Edward's broken expression from earlier; I wanted to smack myself for my brainless naïveté. The vision of my perfect father evaporated and left only blackness. All of the things I wished to ask him, to tell him, vanished. Like sand slipping through my fingers.

All at once, my stomach lurched, I bent over, and vomited; right on my father's grave. I felt my heart collapsing inside me, like I couldn't get enough air. I gripped at my chest, as if to claw out my own poisoned heart.

Implausibly, the voice was present in me.

_He couldn't be dead, it's not possible_! I cried at it, as if it were its fault. For once, shockingly, in my moment of weakness, it comforted me. Like it was wrapping its arms around me. It didn't take away the poison, it just numbed the pain.

Waves of despair roared inside me, and a numb feeling began spreading; I had finally given up.

_I give up, World, take me away now. Make the pain go away. _I wept to whoever was listening.

My eyes raked crazily over the epitaph. It said he died sixteen years earlier, what good did that information do? All I knew is that I had never had a chance to know him; I _never_ had the chance. Even if The Wall hadn't gone up, I wouldn't have ever known him.

A soft hand came down on my shoulder, snapping me to reality; Edward kneeled down beside me.

"I can't begin to understand how you must be feeling right now." I let out a hysterical cry. He had no idea. "I'm sorry."

"I don't need your pity." I cried, trying to push him away, acting as childishly as Jacob had earlier; I just wanted to be alone. I wanted to wallow in my pain, alone. He didn't budge, though.

He stayed as still as can be by my side, refusing to move; I shoved against his chest feebly, once more.

"_Get off me_." I tried to stand up. I had to suck it up; I couldn't break down. Not in front of him. "I'm fine."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am!" I growled, trying to get away from the grave. "I'm fine. I never knew him, so I don't miss him." The lie burned my throat as it came up.

"That's not healthy, Bella." He wouldn't let me get up; I was about to pound on him again to move, but something inside me broke down even further, crippling me.

I took a leap of faith then. I had been caught between blocking him out, and opening up to him wholeheartedly.

All this time, I'd been pushing Edward away, denying this warm feeling I had for him that had been building up ever since I awoke on this side. I just couldn't do it anymore.

I turned and wept into his shoulder, not able to meet his gaze; I had no idea why he was letting me bawl on him, but I didn't have the energy to worry. I just kept crying, gripping his arm, like if I were to let go, I would fall into a dark abyss; I kept trying desperately to gain composure. Each time I tried though, I was whammed with another wave of desolation.

I wasn't sure how long he held me, the seconds turned to minutes and the minutes turned to hours; it felt like two people were holding me; the voice and Edward.

Death was something I have never had to deal with. It was always someone else going through it. Just a passive thing. Never had I been face to face with it, never had it affected me so wholly.

The old vision of myself was slowly crumbling within me— and it was painful. I tried to fight it, but it was an inevitable force. Now, that I was going through it, I was furious at myself. For being everything naïve and immature under the sun.

I hated myself, and hated my father; my head told me it was irrational, but that voice was so insignificant, I couldn't listen to it. Why would he leave me? He couldn't _not die_ before I got to see him? Did he have no desire to see me?

He had lied— he didn't love me at all. "Liar!" I screeched. With all the strength within me, I grabbed the heart necklace. Ripping it over my head, I brought my arm back and let it snap forward. The necklace sailed across the graveyard and I heard a small thud as it hit a tombstone in the distance.

With the sun gone, I could not see where it landed. Clouds covered the moon. It was pitch black.

"The man told me I had to give this to you, he said it was your father's." Edward handed me the book he held from earlier, not meeting my eyes.

"My father's?" I grasped it from his hands, and read the title. It was his personal journal. Edward released me, and moved to walk away from me.

I didn't question why, I just kept staring dumbly at the journal. Why would he give me a journal? What did it matter to him if I got it?

"I don't think he's a liar Bella," Edward was back, and held something in his hands. "I can't imagine you without this, and you'll regret it if you get rid of it." He opened his palms, and in them was the heart I'd thrown across the cemetery. How had he found it?

Without me saying a word, he moved and put it back around my neck.

The journal was big, gaudy, and made of leather. I tried to pry it open, but it refused to budge. I noticed a small lock on the side, and huffed scornfully.

"Great, I've got a book I can't read." I tried to joke, but a small sob escaped from me. I put it under my cloak to keep anyway. I tentatively let my eyes wander to Edward's, and found that he was staring at me. Possibly waiting for another outburst? He broke our gaze and did a double take over his shoulder.

"It's not smart to be out after dark." I hunched over my father's tombstone. I just wanted to read it, one last time. "Or, I guess we could stay here. Another mugging or two makes no difference." He bent down by me once more, and I ignored the comment.

He didn't touch me, and a part of me was grateful, however another part of me wanted him to touch me, to hold me again. I suppose I'd feel that way about anyone holding me.

I peeked to the sky overhead. It _was_ getting pretty eerie looking. Common Sense concluded that it was time to leave, but something inside me was attached to the grave, like it was my lifeline. I felt I would die if I left.

"I can't." I murmured absurdly.

"Alright." I felt Edward take the sword from under my cloak and then, heard the sound of the blade as Edward took it out of its sheath. My eyes whipped to it as he held it out, prepared to slit someone's throat if needed be. I suddenly felt even worse than I did before, for I was putting us both in danger just because of my own emotional issues.

My hands grazed the now invisible epitaph once more, "Goodbye Dad." I whispered inaudibly.

"What was that?" Edward whispered in the same tone I used.

"I said," I swallowed hard. "Let's go."

It seemed like an impossible task, leaving that grave. I felt something had died inside. Maybe it was a mixture of the stress I'd had to bare since coming here that had caused it. The change of environment, having to hide myself, losing my composure time and time again—this was the last straw.

I wasn't sure what exactly had broken inside me, but I didn't want to fight anymore. I just didn't know what I was fighting. I was sinking in a bottomless ocean, all of my energy, all of my motivation to claw back to the top, was spent. Gone.

I couldn't physically get up without Edward's help, for I thought I would be sick again. I was able to feed of his energy to get out of there, for I had no more; it was more like he was dragging around a catatonic body.

Edward had to support me as we walked back to the house we were staying at; I tried with all my might not to glance back at the grave, but I faltered a few times.

I had no idea why he was suddenly being so sympathetic and not hesitating to carry me as I let myself break down; I didn't have the strength to question it. I just knew I needed it; needed him. I was ashamed, taking advantage of him like this; but, I couldn't do this by myself. I was disgusted by the fact I couldn't even pull myself together enough to at least appear halfway normal in the nearly deserted streets. He just held out his sword menacingly at anyone he even glanced our way.

He accepted my wailing and hiccupping as something unavoidable. He never told me to stifle it, maybe he was smart enough not to. Because I wouldn't have been able to; I was grateful for his seemingly infinite patience. I was so thankful I wasn't alone though, that he'd made sure I wasn't; I was drowning, but he was rock I was clinging to, so I didn't get dragged away by the pain. I couldn't pull myself out of the water though; all I had the strength to do was hold my head barely above the raging waters.

The voice never left me, it was constantly there; trying to feed me encouragement, I guessed. I couldn't absorb it. My body was too in shock.

I didn't even look to the old, withered man as Edward dragged me up the stairs and to the room.

My emotional instability cut out a few seconds every once in awhile, like I was on the brink of fainting; I don't even remember going up the stairs, or Edward laying me in the bed.

The last thing I remember is Edward humming the song he'd played on the piano, and feeling my hand in Edward's for the rest of the nightmarish night.

**Lots of drama? I'd really like some feedback, because this chapter is so controversial.**

**Review for the rest of the teaser:**

_**I took out the journal from the cloak, and just stared at it. If my father had wanted me to have this, why had he locked it? A small hole caught my eye, it was embedded in the lock; it was shaped like a diamond.**_

**Great, there's a diamond shaped key who knows where?**_** I thought to myself. Then I looked down. **_

_**Two pieces locked together in my head when I saw the small diamond on the front of my heart shaped necklace. I did a double take between the two; they were a perfect match.**_


	14. Chapter 13

**Here it is…what you've all been waiting for….the love-y chapter :) well sort of….**

Chapter 13

My father and I were sitting across from each other, in my room, back on my side; we were talking, pleasantly. The sun illuminated his face, I knew it instantly; it was so unique, yet it was like my own in a way. It was like I'd known him my whole life.

His lips moved, as if he was talking, but no sound came out.

"_Dad_," I laughed, in lighthearted unawareness. "_You're going to have to speak louder_."

He nodded in comprehension, and pointed behind me; I turned, curiously. There was my mirror, just as I remembered it.

However, something was wrong about the image; it showed me, talking to an empty chair. I twisted back around quickly, and he was gone; I gasped and I jumped out of my seat.

"_Dad_?" I called, I tried to run and look for him, but something heavy and cold caught my ankle; I froze in fear, I turned my gaze to foot.

A crude, metal shackle held my ankle in its grasp.

I looked to my other ankle, there was one on that one too; I moved my hands to undo them, but they had cuffs around them too.

Frightened, I gazed around the room; I was no longer at home. I was alone, in a moist, stone, dark room.

I was in jail.

My chained wrists were abruptly yanked upward; they were attached to the wall, above my head, immobilizing me.

I screamed piercingly, but nobody heard me. The room contained the sound of my voice.

"_Help me, someone, help me!_" My voice echoed off the wet walls of the room. Nobody came to my rescue.

The tears fell from my eyes like rain. Claustrophobia overtook me. No matter how much I'd called out, nobody came for me. They'd all left me. I was more alone than ever.

Isolation was never something I was good at handling; I was going crazy. It felt like hours I was in there, each minute passed agonizingly slowly.

I was trying to call out someone's name, but I couldn't remember anyone; like I'd been alone my whole life. I was slowly losing my mind.

As a last resort, I cried out one name; the only name my mind could seem to chalk up. And it left me with an uneasy feeling.

"_Edward!" _I cried out with the remnants of my will. That started a chain of events; there was bright light, and I felt the shackles fall away.

Suddenly, my hand felt warm, and I was jerked awake.

I was in the bed, in the foreign house. I looked to the side of the bed, Edward was sound asleep, and his head was resting on the bed, while his hand was loosely hanging onto my own. That had been the warmth from my dream.

I leapt out the bed, in fear I would fall back asleep; I wanted anything but that. Edward's hand fell from mine, and hit his face.

He rose up violently. "What's going on?" He said sleepily, ready to defend himself. I watched half-heartedly. The pain from yesterday still ached in my heart, but I was able to compose myself.

"Sorry I woke you." I said softly, he looked to me, and awareness came into his eyes. He was obviously expecting me to go into another crying session, but I stayed still with a small, sad smile planted on my face.

"Are you okay?" He hesitated.

I nodded, moving a short strand of hair behind my ear; it was just long enough to stay there. "Yeah, I'm done." I sniffled. He cocked an eyebrow.

"Okay," He looked me up and down, searching for any sign of a lie. "You're sure you're fine?"

"Yes." I sighed, truthfully.

"Great," He commented jokingly, I had the urge to laugh. Hmm… _New_. "We can go back soon, but I have to go into town to get more food. Plus, I'm sure you don't want to leave so soon, and get back to that luxurious forest, that I know you love."

"Okay, I'll just be here." I stammered awkwardly, my dream had left me with a queasy feeling, and I certainly couldn't work through it with him here.

"Um..." He moved toward me, as if to hug me or some other kind of goodbye gesture; then he wavered, as if he just realized what he was doing. He stopped and held his hand up in a wave. "Bye." He then paced quickly out of the door and down the stairs.

I sat, and let out an exasperated breath. My insides were so conflicted; my dream had confused me so.

Why had his name been the only one I could remember? I'd known Alice and Mother my whole life; in comparison, the time I'd spent with Edward was miniscule. And why had his name thrust me out of my nightmare?

It was the thing that took me out of the terror; and now, after yesterday, I held a new gratefulness to him.

He'd held me when I was all alone, he certainly didn't need to do that; I'm sure the only other person on this earth that would do that was Alice. In my time of vulnerability, he'd taken care of me, and let me be; anyone else would have told me to shut up and suck it up. Emmett might have tolerated it for a few minutes, and then told me I was getting out of control. Jasper wouldn't even have messed with me; he probably would have kicked me or something. If I'd seen Jacob, he might have been able to relate to me, but he still wouldn't have held me.

Why was he being so caring? And why did I crave it so much? I couldn't imagine not being here without him, the thought petrified me to the bone. I'd be dead without him. Sure, he was mocking and sarcastic, but at the right times he was caring. Like I'd needed it last night, I'm not sure what would have happened if he weren't there. Or if he had been his normal sarcastic self.

I owed him my life, without him, I'd have died at least three times over. He never held that against me though. That still doesn't explain why his name had been the only important one; my last resort. As if no one else would have saved me.

I felt a strong shift in me, not just from last night, but _lately_. He seemed to have something to do with it; I saw him differently every time I saw him, like I was more vulnerable each time. Like each time he smiled, I would be knocked off my feet. Each snide comment ignited a brighter fire in me.

I was stupid; the dumbest thing to ever live. He was just helping me over here, making sure I didn't, you know, _die_. Why was I feeling this way? And did it have a name (I wondered for the millionth time)? This was dangerous; he was affecting me more and more by the minute; it frightened me, for I didn't know why. How come no other man made me feel like that? I shouldn't let anyone have such power over me, but I couldn't fight it.

What disturbed me the very most of it all was, I didn't _want_ to fight it.

My thoughts were so jumbled, I began to rub my temples; this was so maddening. I just had to hold out, wait until I got to my own side, and I could get back to my own life.

Something inside me broke as I thought about just going back to my side, never to see him again. I almost cried out from the immediate pain. It hurt me to even think of it, I was too attached.

The stress finally got to me. I'd never felt this way before, I'd only known him a short time, yet I felt he was one of the people I could trust the most. I'd unknowingly put so much of my trust in him.

The scariest thought of all, what if I was alone in this flurry of newfound feelings? My stomach twisted like a knife had been jabbed in it. What if he didn't have this feeling as well? What if he was horrified that I was so attached to him?

So, where did this leave me? I had to go back to the women's side.

I stopped in mid-thought.

Had I just referred to my _home_ as something separate from me? It was _my_ side. My heart sank, I would have to go back, and pretend all of this never happened. It was an impossible mission. I wouldn't be able to hide all of this.

My side didn't have the towering forests, the real elements, the freedom…and seemingly worst of all, it didn't have Edward. I felt as if I would be brought to my knees.

_So what if it doesn't have him?_ I thought to myself. _It didn't have him before, and you were fine._

I'd stopped fighting, I'd been hit too many times, I'd stopped fighting this side, and I'd stopped fighting _him_. I hadn't even realized I was fighting. I wanted to hit myself, but this felt right. It bewildered me; maybe I was being overdramatic. I probably just cracked from all of the events that took place.

I moaned and fell back onto the bed, not wanting to think about it anymore.

I took out the journal from the cloak, and just stared at it. If my father had wanted me to have this, why had he locked it? A small hole caught my eye, it was embedded in the lock; it was shaped like a diamond.

_Great, there's a diamond shaped key who knows where? _I thought to myself. Then I looked down.

Two pieces locked together in my head when I saw the small diamond on the front of my heart shaped necklace. I did a double take between the two; they were a perfect match.

I smiled brightly as I brought the necklace to the journal, and the jewel fit in flawlessly; in one swift motion, a clicking sound rang from it, and it was opened.

He'd intended for me to open it, he wanted no one else in the world to read it but _me_. A warm feeling swept through me as I read it clicked inside me. I brought up the necklace to my face and read the back in amazement.

_Make sure to put the pieces together._ That's what he meant! He'd intended for me to get this, and the journal, so I could open it!

Amazement filled me as I read what he wrote in the journal.

_**Let no one else in the world read this; everything is not as it seems**_**. **

I stared in confusion, who would I show this to? My mind flashed to Edward, and a shiver ran through me. Why couldn't I let him read it? He should share this with me.

But, I wanted to honor my father's wishes, so I resolved not to show him. I flipped to the first page.

_**April 7**__**th**__**, **_

_** My fears have been realized; the guards of the Volturi have come to draft architects for a secret project their working on; I pray they don't take me, but they most likely will. I have a bad feeling about this. Ever since the Volturi got their new leaders, they've gone from helping people, to becoming secretive. But nobody suspects them; they are still as beloved as they were when their intentions were pure hearted. **_

_** Renee might be pregnant, which is what scares me most about this project, I sense a great shift in our lives. **_

_** That's all for today.**_

_** April 8**__**th**__**, **_

_** Even worse news, they drafted me to be the Head Designer of their secret project; the worst news, Renee IS pregnant. I don't have the heart to tell her I have to go away for Lord knows how long. I can't do it. The Volturi grows more and more powerful by the day, they're starting to monitor the street corners now. I feel conflict is at hand. **_

_** April 9**__**th**__**,**_

_** It's hopeless. I am assigned to leave in a week, and Renee is as glowing as could be; she is so excited and happy for this baby, she hopes it is a girl. If it is a girl, we decided to name her Isabella; she says we'll name it after me if it's a boy. I don't think it's worth it. She is in absolute heaven, while I'm in hell. **_

I had to close the book at that point; I let out a shaky breath. It was like looking back in time, back before The Wall went up. This is how it all started, huh? I hated it. He referred to Mother as glowing; I'd think the pregnancy would have been viewed as a slight inconvenience to her. She hoped to get a girl? She got her wish, so why isn't she happy?

I heard the sound of the door opening and closing downstairs reverberate off the walls, indicating Edward was back. My heart skipped a beat. I was about to get up to show him what my father had written, but my body wouldn't move. The voice came in my head once more.

_Put it away_, it commanded, my arm moved on its own and hid it in my cloak. Edward came through the door, with a full backpack and a grin on his face.

"That was quick." I commented with a nervous laugh.

"I got a good deal on apples." I just smiled. "Alright, we could go soon, if you like." He offered, rifling through the bag for an apple.

"Sure."

He picked it up and slung it over his shoulder once more, but he turned to me. "Hey, and…if you need to talk…about yesterday. I'm here." I almost melted; I wanted to scold myself too. _He's affecting you too much, snap out of it_, I repeated to myself.

"Thanks, that means a lot." I commented, he seemed to appreciate that, like receiving a pat on the back.

He just stared at me for a second, almost in a trance like state, and then he shook his head hastily, "Good news, there's a shipment of goods going in to our village, and it leaves in a few minutes; I talked to the guy, and he said we could hitch a ride; it will only take a day by horse." That was like music to my ears.

We wouldn't have to walk; thank whoever let this be.

"Yes! Let's go." I leapt up animatedly, trying to hide my dirty little secret in my cloak pocket.

Soon, I gathered all of our belongings (which wasn't much), and as we left the house, Edward gave a friendly goodbye to the owner. The old man shook in response. I felt sorry for him; it must have been terrible to have a disease that causes that kind of reaction.

I pulled the hood over my head, stealing a few glances to Edward, without scolding myself this time.

A shot of icy terror rang up my spine as he said we would be getting back sooner; which meant I'd have to work through this whirlwind of mystifying emotions in less time than before.

We both jumped on the back of the cart and I laid down back against the bags of goods to be transported.

I shouldn't have been worried, I should have been happy to go back to my own side, like any normal person; but it feels as if I would be ripping something away from me by going back and pretending nothing was wrong. I would think that over time, I could forget this feeling; but it was as hard as climbing up a cliff face with your limbs tied behind your back.

I still thought a possible explanation to this attraction I was having for Edward was that the news of my father's _departure_ was the last straw and sent me into insanity, and that I'm just acting upon my madness. That would explain why Edward wasn't the same annoying bug he was to me.

The fact that I thought of my side less and less often _was_ alarming; but that will all be fixed when I got back. At the moment, it seemed unfeasible, but maybe when I get back to my old side it will all fall back into place.

"_That didn't injury magically appear out of thin air, you got it somewhere_." I remember Edward said back when I first came here, not too long ago. I did get this injury somewhere, so would my life ever be as it was? My eyes trailed upward, to watch Edward, as laid back, hands behind his head; my heart fluttered and I had my answer.

No. No it would never be the same. No matter how much I wanted it to be.

**[Another combination of chapters occurred here]**

My poor legs thanked me for not making them go all that way back; it was nice to watch the landscape, and not have to worry about fainting.

Thoughts of my father never left my mind; I wanted to get back to the journal, but I had to wait until Edward went to sleep. We had gotten up pretty early, afterall.

Eventually he did, and I was able to read again.

When I heard him start snoring, I excitedly took out the journal and unlocked it via my necklace.

_**April 16**__**th**___

_**I left for the building camp today. They came to get me in the night, and I didn't have the chance to tell Renee. I pray she'll wait for me until I got back. **_

_**When I arrived, I was thrown in with hundreds upon hundreds— thousands upon thousands of other workers; this project is going to be huge. And terrible, they've put us in shackles, and use whips to make sure we work.**_

_** They told me today that my position as Head Designer was an honor. When I asked why they simply said I showed the most ability to handle a job like this. I asked what would happen if I refused. They say that when my baby is born, they'll take it and my wife and hold them. And when my child is old enough, they'll put it to work, for its entire life.**_

_** I couldn't argue with that.**_

_** April 25**__**th**___

_** They keep us in these claustrophobic rooms, and we sleep on rotting old cots. We work sixteen hours a day. Well I plan mostly. They get the materials. **_

_** What we're building is a giant wall, only I have not the slightest idea what it's for. I hope to find out soon.**_

_** I fear this might be the last time I am able to write for a while; they will soon be monitoring our sleeping quarters. If I work hard enough, I can gain their trust and be able to write in peace. Soon I hope.**_

A bump in the road knocked Edward into consciousness, he snored loudly and his eyes snapped open; I quickly closed the book and hid it under me. When he looked to me questioningly, I just grinned, hoping it didn't look too orchestrated. I silently cursed this bumpy road.

Obviously Dad loved Mother, and she seemed to be the happiest person in the world back then. Maybe Dad having to work on The Wall put her in a permanent bad mood; it may have looked bad without any explanation. He never got the chance to get back to her. It was heartbreaking.

My father— _my_ father helped work on The Wall; thankfully it wasn't by choice, but I couldn't believe he gave up his entire life to make sure Mother and I stayed free. Or this definition of freedom. _Look at me now Dad, look at me now_, I sighed to the atmosphere. _Did you ever think I'd make it here? To see you?_ _Or, relatively speaking_.

Actually looking at the thoughts of Dad, before I was born, is really an eye opener; I feel I really knew him. Some of the pain from yesterday alleviated, relief washed through me.

I was itching inside to read about my father's experience with building The Wall, but Edward wouldn't go back to sleep. I concluded that he wasn't going to go back to sleep, anytime soon so I dropped it.

Edward had been right, I ended up crying a bit more; nowhere near what took place last night, but I just sniffle and let tears slip. I certainly didn't want him there when it happened though; I wanted to retain some dignity, well what was left of it. Yet, like before, he was by my side through it. Plus we were in a moving cart so he was kind of stuck with me.

Once more, I expected him to make some kind of comment, but he held onto me vigilantly. And when the driver looked back at us, to see what the noise was, Edward gave him a look that could kill. That put an unshakable grin on my face. He talked me through my crying jag, bringing my spirits up. He just made the day seem so much brighter.

It was a blissful ride home…or to his home. His home. I wanted to laugh out loud at my stupidity. I needed to stop referring to it as home.

_Well, if everyone in his home knows about you, it won't be as tortuous; you could just live inside the home, and if you absolutely have to go out, there's always the cloak. _The voice whispered tauntingly. I screamed internally at it.

_No way, it would never be that easy. _I argued.

_You're making this harder than it needs to be._ The voice argued back, I was momentarily shocked that it answered directly. It never did that.

_There's just a tiny issue, what if he doesn't even agree to it? The whole debate kind of falls apart at that. _I replied, smugly.

_And if he does you won't have a case. _

_What if I don't want to?_ I spat back.

_I don't think there's any doubt there._

_That's the point, you don't __**think**__, you're just a figment of my imagination. _I must have been ill. I was fighting with a voice inside my head. And losing.

_Then why are we having this conversation?_

"Shut up!" I exclaimed out loud, shattering the comfortable silence that had built up; I automatically snapped my mouth shut.

I tentatively met Edward's petrified gaze. I was hyper aware of the silence, both the driver and Edward looked at me like… well, like I'd just screamed 'shut up' in utter silence.

"Bella," Edward started softly, holding his hand out. "Do you need some more sleep?" He asked quietly.

"Ah yes, I'll do that." It sounded false even to my ears. I chuckled sheepishly before turning over and closing my eyes. I groaned meekly.

_Maybe I __**do**__ need sleep. _I thought to myself.

_I win._

I didn't end up going to sleep; I just kept arguing with the voice, going in circles in my head.

_What if you don't get your memory back ever? What if the amnesia isn't temporary? Then you'd have to stay. _I had to admit, that did stop me.

_It will!_ I yelled back.

_But what if it doesn't?_ I had come to terms with my insanity about thirty minutes ago, while I was in a particularly heated conversation with the voice.

_It has to_. I whined in my mind_. It would be terrible if it didn't!_

_Would it really?_

That's where I stopped talking to it altogether. But it never stopped talking to me, spewing its reasoning's at me. I had to admit, some of them sounded quite appealing. Which was horribly, _horribly_ wrong.

At one point, Edward and I found shapes in the clouds, which was halfway fun. He kept finding spiders and bears, and deer. I just found rocks. Then he'd look at the same cloud I was looking at and he'd say it look like some kind of weird bunny thing with a dragon tail.

After that, we fell into a silence (in which I didn't scream out at random times again), it was a content silence.

I think he was still a little scared of me, and my outburst. Perhaps he was expecting another. I wasn't sure, but he didn't talk to me much after that. That saddened me. When he fell asleep, I got a lot of reading done, though there wasn't much to read. Every day was the same after he gained enough trust so he could write in peace.

But he wrote in one entry, that he had bribed, and threatened a few people, to found out about me; I almost cried once more at that part, but I held back. He found out my gender and he already knew my name once he knew I was a girl; he had been so sorrowful, that he couldn't be there. I just kept stroking the paper, wishing I could be with him.

That's when he started planning a secret project. Though he never specifically said what in the entries though, for privacy. Grief overtook me, for obviously whatever he'd planned hadn't worked. I wished it had though, maybe things would be different.

I did fall asleep eventually. It wasn't a very heavy sleep, but it was a long sleep. It was strange; I slept for the whole rest of the day. The day had been monotonous for Edward, I'm sure, but my mind was so full of these feelings about him and my father's journal. My day was full.

When we arrived back, I stumbled off the cart and Edward kept me close to him; for it was nighttime, a treacherous time to be out. I was only half awake but he held me close to his side, keeping watchful of all men on the streets. I was pressed to his side, his warmth kept me from shivering.

We got back to the house. I don't think I was ever so happy to see that place. Actually, I _know_ I was never that happy. As soon as we got in, I crawled to the couch, and crashed. Edward just chuckled a 'goodnight' and went to his own room.

The couch felt so soft compared to the forest floor and bags full of food.

_Maybe if you were to live here, you'd get your own bed._

**Lots of cool things in this chapter (I like to think)**

**Review for the rest of the teaser:**

"_**Wait, do you actually want to stay?" His voice was full of disorientation and bafflement; I held my head toward the floor; he'd said it as if he'd never thought he'd ever hear the words. Actually, I never thought I'd say them.**_

"_**Logically." I answered softly; feeling an embarrassed smile plaster itself on my hidden face.**_

"_**Okay, okay, this is too rich." He snickered, and went into a laughing fit, my face was beat red when I turned it up to glare at him.**_

"_**Shut up! I thought we were looking at it logically." I scolded him; anger coursed through me. Anger directed at myself. I was stupid to bring it up in the first place. **_

"_**Oh come on, let me enjoy the moment." He breathed in and out, as if to take it all in. I raised my hand and smacked him roughly on the forearm. I really didn't want it rubbed in my face.**_

"_**Really Edward, stop." I uttered in a low, hurt voice, and his playful manner disappeared, and he somber.**_

"_**You're serious." He asked in a tone as low as my own. It wasn't a question, more of a statement.**_

"_**I wouldn't joke about something like this." My voice shook; I couldn't look him in the eye.**_


	15. Chapter 14

**Nobody got teasers; sorry mother nature was not kind to my internet connection. :( And this chapter is a little late—sorry!**

**Chapter 14**

Jasper and Emmett went out, to play their games; I didn't bother asking what they played. I knew enough about them that it was something mindless and indubitably involved some form of wrestling.

I took this opportunity to speak of what was on my mind.

"Edward, can we talk about something?" I called tentatively; he was currently in the kitchen, concocting who knows what. His eyebrows came down to form a worried grimace.

"Sure, what's wrong?" He set down whatever he was holding and stepped into the room, I sighed uneasily and looked down at my twiddling thumbs. I didn't want to talk about it, it was the last thing I wanted to do. But it needed to be said.

"Our endeavor to Ole' Rust was unsuccessful. But you were right before. I would have regretted it if I had just ran back to my side as soon as possible, I needed to know this; that he's deceased." My voice broke. I refused to look him in the eyes.

He tilted his head in confusion. "No problem, but where are you going with this?"

I sighed shakily, barely choking out the words. "That was my main reason for staying, and now that it's out of the way, the only thing keeping me here is my memory. And that hasn't made its appearance yet." I couldn't finish the sentence; I prayed he'd catch on.

"So, you're worried that, it might be permanent?" He offered in a quiet tone; his face contorted, as if he'd just considered the fact.

"Yes." I exhaled, glad I didn't have to say it out loud. He didn't reply immediately. He looked like he was thinking about it intensely.

"That presents a complication." He rubbed his chin (which had a stubble on it, I had just taken notice), as he contemplated. He gazed at the wall.

"Exactly," I started, hoping to get some set information. "So, do I just go back blind?" He perked up at that.

"No." He said quickly, and then stayed silent for a second. "…I mean, because it would dangerous."

"That's what I'm saying, or trying to say." I chuckled half-heartedly; it kind of ended in a choked sob.

His eyes locked with mine, and I was stuck. I couldn't look away. "What do _you_ want to do?" He asked. Please don't ask me that. Anything but that. Ugh, curse him.

"I don't know." I answered honestly; relieved I was able to give him a response that didn't point either way. He seemed dissatisfied by that.

"Let's look at this logically," I was about to groan; I wanted to know what he wanted. It was my not so sly way of trying to find out where he wished me to be. "Going back blind would be bad, but staying here would be bad too."

"Well, if we're looking at it logically_,_ then it's best to stick with what we know?" I phrased more as a question. "We don't know what will happen if I try to go back; but we can sort of predict what will happen if…" I absolutely, refused to finish that sentence; not whilst I held his gaze. It was something I would never do.

"Wait, do you actually _want_ to stay?" His voice was full of disorientation and bafflement; I held my head toward the floor; he'd said it as if he'd never thought he'd ever hear the words. Actually, I never thought I'd say them.

"Logically." I answered softly; feeling an embarrassed smile plaster itself on my hidden face.

"Okay, okay, this is too rich." He snickered, and went into a laughing fit, my face was beat red when I turned it up to glare at him.

"Shut up! I thought we were looking at it logically." I scolded him; anger coursed through me. Anger directed at myself. I was stupid to bring it up in the first place.

"Oh come on, let me enjoy the moment." He breathed in and out, as if to take it all in. I raised my hand and smacked him roughly on the forearm. I really didn't want it rubbed in my face.

"Really Edward, _stop_." I uttered in a low, hurt voice, and his playful manner disappeared, and he somber.

"You're serious." He asked in a tone as low as my own. It wasn't a question, more of a statement.

"I wouldn't joke about something like this." My voice shook; I couldn't look him in the eye.

He seemed perplexed by this, "I don't think you'd like it much over here." He was suddenly on the same page as I, just as serious.

"Logically, remember?"

"You'd miss your friends."

"Logically."

"You'd get tired."

"Of what?" I jerked up, surprised by this; his eyes locked once more with mine.

"Everything. Having to hid, being alone…seeing me day in and day out." He finished shyly.

"If we're thinking strictly reasonably, then all of that doesn't matter." I reminded him, "None of that would matter if I died on the other side." I finished coolly. His eyes suddenly were burning, boring into my own. I held my breath, as I received this intense look.

"We're no longer talking about just a plan— we're talking about a lifestyle. These things count in the long run." He sorted through it; he was just so consistent in his thinking.

I sighed, angrily. "But why would you think I'd be alone?" I folded my arms across my chest.

"You'd be the only woman on this side, you'd have no one to connect with, and you'd just have me in your face all day, every day." He disagreed vehemently, a response bubbled to my lips.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." As soon as I said it, I silently cursed myself. I wanted to eat the words, to take them back.

That stifled him. He grew profoundly silent. I wanted him to say something— anything.

I knew this was a stupid idea, and that I didn't belong here; weird feelings or no weird feelings, this was wrong.

We sat in silence. I wasn't sure I'd be able to keep myself from getting up and running if we locked gazes; I felt almost airborne at the moment, already.

"Ah…" He moved to rub his temples. I stayed quiet, wallowing in my own self pity for releasing something so significant.

"I suppose if we're looking at it 'logically'," aha, he was backpedaling. "Then staying here _would_ be the safest thing." I groaned aloud this time.

I didn't want to know the logical answer, really. I wanted to know what he wanted.

"As you said, this stuff adds up in the long run, it's not just about me anymore. It's not bad for me, but you'd stuck with me in your home each and every day." I almost choked. "What about for _you_?"

He froze, I held my breath. "It wouldn't be bad for me either," He seemed extremely uncomfortable saying something like that; I kept my face directly parallel to the floor. "I mean, my dad and Em like you and all…Jas will adjust."

I didn't move an inch. I was waiting for the catch, the punch line, the contrast to the good, the 'but' every conversation had. I didn't want to shatter the illusion, as if, if I were to respond, he would pull the rug out from under my feet.

I couldn't fathom it, that everything had worked out. I had come out of this unscathed and with what I had secretly desired.

The only problem was I didn't know why I desired such a thing; it was irrational to want to stay here, but the qualities just beckon to me. The untamed forest, the thrill with every step, the complete lack of haughty sophistication, the sheer realness of it all.

"Okay." I just nodded, swallowing hard; he squeezed my hand in reassurance in one fast movement, then released it. My heart stopped for that one second. The world took on a much brighter outlook.

Soon after the conversation, Edward went into the kitchen to finish making whatever he was making, and I laid back. Completely at ease.

This was _my_ home, I lived here now. It had a nice ring to it. I never would have believed I would live here, in this home. This side had enveloped me, I was attached to its good, and bad qualities. I was just happy I didn't have to hide here, in this particular place. Outside the house, sure, but not here.

I would miss Alice though; that was the only major setback. It pained me to think of what she was thinking right now. I wondered if she missed me as much as I missed her. My heart twisted at the thought of her, all by herself.

_She can handle herself_, I thought in an attempt to ease my guilt, _she's strong willed_.

This side wasn't as bad as the school had let on. In fact, it was dead wrong. Now I had to start planning, planning for what to do on this side. Possibly the rest of my life. I shuddered from nervousness. What exactly would take place for the rest of my life? Would my feelings wither away and die, or would they increase? I feared if they increased too much, I might explode.

I shook my head, trying to dislodge the emotions— I couldn't think about this too much.

I sped to the bookcase, and took down a random book, hoping to distract myself. Not bothering with the cover, I flipped open the book, to a random page and began to read.

Confused, I traveled to the bottom of the page, which the title was written on; _The Diaries of Adam and Eve__ by: Mark Twain_. My whole inside was rocked; it was strange how I just came upon this. A very old story once told by the Crazies, however this was written much differently than the tale I'd heard.

As I continued to read, I travelled deeper and deeper into the world of Adam and Eve; they didn't fall in love right at the beginning. But over time, it just happened; not in one sweeping motion like the Crazies had let on. It had developed seamlessly over time. One part in particular caught my eye.

"_When I look back, the Garden was a dream. It was beautiful, enchantingly beautiful. And now it is lost. And I shall not see it anymore. The garden is lost, but I have him. He loves me as well as he can. I love him with all the strength of my passionate nature. _

_If I ask myself why I love him, I find I do not know. I love certain birds because of their song. But I do not love Adam an account of his singing— no it is not that! The more he sings, the more I do not get reconciled with it. It is not on account of his gracious and considerate ways and his delicacy that I love him. No, he lacks in these regards. But he is well enough, and is improving._

_It is not on account of his chivalry that I love him— not, it is not that. He told on me, but I do not blame him. It is a peculiarity of his sex, I think. And he did not make his sex. Of course, I would not have told on him. I would have perished first. But that is a peculiarity of my sex. And I do not take credit for it, for I did not make my sex… I think I love him merely because he is mine._

_Adam: Ten Years Later: After all these years, I see that I was mistaken about Eve in the beginning. It is better to live outside the Garden with her than inside without her. At first, I thought she talked too much. But now I would be sorry to have that voice fall silent and pass out of my life. Blessed be the one that brought us together and taught me to know the goodness of her heart and the sweetness of her spirit. _

_Eve: Forty Years Later. It is my longing. It is my prayer, that we may pass from this life together. A longing which shall never perish from this earth, but shall have a place in the heart of every wife that loves, until the end of time. And it shall be called by my name. But if one of us must go first, it is my prayer that it shall be I. For life without him is not life. How could I endure it? This prayer is also immortal, and will not cease from being offered up as my race continues. I am the first wife, and in the last wife I shall be repeated._

_Adam: At Eve's Grave. Wheresoever she was, there was Eden_."

I shut the book in a quiet motion and placed it delicately back on the shelf, about to send myself into a heart attack from breathing so hard. That last line packed such a punch. I never dreamed a man would think that way—would have such depth of thought; that showed just how much I still needed to learn.

_Wheresoever she was, there was Eden…_

I feel I connected with Eve in a way I never would have been able to before coming to this side; it explained love as something different then what I've expected. Not just one big burst of absolute love, just slow infatuation.

Is that why I wanted to stay here? Adam and Eve were the first humans on this earth, their relationship was supposed to be perfect; but it is terribly flawed. Perhaps that was what makes it perfect?

Adam was not faultless; neither was Edward. Eve was not unblemished; nor I. What did this mean?

_It is a peculiarity of his sex_, I suppose there is some sort of balance between the male stereotype and individualism. All the men I've met are so different from each other; yet the same in a much larger way.

Every single time I think I have this side figured out, it grows extraordinarily more complicated.

Perhaps, I was feelings this way, purely because I am hanging around with men; a chemical reaction? No, that couldn't be it. With Edward, it was different than my relationship with Jasper, Emmett, Carlisle, even Jacob. Each relationship was as opposite as sun and moon.

I hadn't really known just how little I knew on the other side until actually seeing it; I might as well have lived in a cave my whole life.

Edward paraded back into the room, sandwich in hand, "I'm going to catch up with Jas and Em, see what kind of game they're playing." He mumbled, still chewing; I just nodded, wanting to laugh. He waved and ran out the door. I just sat there and stared after him for a minute before breaking into action.

I took out the journal and ran to a corner and began reading about my father's experience.

I wasn't positive how long I read, but some new information was uncovered.

He began describing the Volturi in close detail, now that he had gained enough of their trust; he was slowly learning their procedures, their ways.

_**I have formed the key part of the plan, it was tough to make, but I have finally done it; I had to pay a great deal of money to get it shipped out of here and where it belongs**_**. **

I wanted to smash something, for he was dancing around the point, teasing me about what it was.

_**I found out something awful today, a Volturi agent, if he is allowed, can choose a wife to take his position in the Core (the three leaders' most trusted advisors) when The Wall goes up. That is the sick requirement of the Core; if they deem him worthy, they will survey the women, and then the chosen woman will be stolen in the night. They would basically disappear from the world. For the purpose of creating an heir, for their position.**_

I cringed at the thought; I hoped that it wasn't like that today; that would be horrible for whichever unlucky woman was too desirable to some strange Volturi agent.

_**The Wall's purpose is much more devious and malicious than I originally predicted; I now believe it is to separate our genders. Such a crazy plan! The reason is now clear to me; the Volturi thirst for blood and power and with our genders separated, the passion to fight will be gone. Making it easy to conquer. Such a sadistically brilliant plan.**_

A tremble ran up my spine, and I felt as if I should crawl in a corner.

So, this was their reasoning for The Wall, I never truly started questioning The Wall and the Volturi before coming here. They separated us to alleviate the passion? I had noticed this earlier, but I never thought that it was on purpose. That it was the heart of their plan. It was true, I felt more alive over here than ever before in my life; was this passion? I never really understood passion until now.

I always knew the Volturi had something to do with The Wall, but this was just plain, evil. The Hawks were Volturi agents, surely, because Dad had described the Core as exclusive, and once you're in, you can never leave. You're trapped for life.

I was so grateful to him; he did everything his power to keep Mother and I out of this; I secretly wished I could see Mother one last time, to make sure she knows, that Dad loved her. Maybe then, she'd be just a little bit happier.

I never dreamed, never thought, a man could love me like I now know my Dad did; I had unconsciously soaked in everything I'd been taught on the other side. Love warmed my heart, I blissfully drowned in it. But along with that love, came misery. As I learned more about my father, the more I craved to know him; I felt as if I knew him. This pain is a new pain. A much more lethal and acute pain.

A few tears slipped from my eyes, and I brought my hand up and wiped them away numbly.

I yearned to show Edward this, wanting to know his opinion, but the voice burned every time the thought crossed my mind. I wondered what was so bad about showing him; he was someone I knew I could trust.

Edward stumbled into the house, and I hadn't thought anything of it.

Until I caught deep liquid red in the corner of my eye. His leg was bleeding like an endless waterfall! I struggled for breath and leapt up in a panicked motion.

"Okay, okay," I wheezed, holding my hands out, ready to catch him. "Um, put that under some water!" I gasped going under his arm to help him limp into the kitchen. He just gawked at me with an amused expression painted on his smug face.

"I'm fine. It's only a flesh wound." He laughed, as if it were nothing. That was a serious wound!

"But, but, your leg is…"

"Bleeding? Yes I noticed that _only_ a few seconds ago." Rage burned within me; why was he brushing it off as nothing?

I growled. "Would you care to explain how you got that?" I released him roughly; he clung to the counter, chuckling slightly, but still a frazzled.

"Jas and Em play violently sometimes." He laughed; his eyes were distant; reminiscing.

"They could kill each other!" I shrieked, worriedly; then I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. _I'm getting too old for this_, I thought to myself. "Look, can you at least _try_ not to kill yourself next time?"

"Why?" He half sneered, but underlying curiosity lay in his voice. I spun around, with my fiery gaze, I began to stare him down; he shrank back like a scared puppy.

"Well I don't work in an oh so grand _hospital_," My eyes rolled so far they almost fell out. "I'm not good with broken people."

I placed my hand on my hip and stormed to go find something to clean his wound with; I may not have known much about heart murmurs, but I could disinfect a cut.

Upon returning, with all the right materials, he placed his leg over the sink, ready for _me_ to clean it.

"Oh, so it's not my position to tell you not to play so rough, but of course, I'm perfectly fit to clean your wound for you." I accused, only half serious, throwing the supplies on the counter and let out a hard laugh. "Clean it yourself."

His eyes grew torn, he obviously didn't like that idea; I wondered why, he was a big boy, he could handle himself.

"What if I apologized?"

"It better be one nice apology." I turned my back to him, and crossed my arms over my chest; he groaned obnoxiously, as if it would actually hurt to apologize.

"I'm sorry, and I won't kill myself." He muttered vengefully; I looked over my shoulder, and read the label on the medicine. Alcohol, I grinned evilly to myself. This stuff stung so badly when you put it on a cut.

"Okay," I perked and turned back around. "I'll do it." He jerked a little bit, clearly shocked by my tremendous shift in mood.

I leaned forward, and locked eyes with him; he halted his motion to look at what I was doing. I smiled at him brightly, making sure my face held all of his attention. Cautiously I unscrewed the top of the Alcohol, and held it over his wound.

"Edward?" I asked in an unusually kind voice, and I leaned forward and stared into his eyes; his eyes glazed over with some unknown emotion.

"What?" He replied, in a dazed way; I passively wondered what that was about.

"This might sting just a little."

His eyebrows knit together in confusion for half a second, and before he had the time to process what was happening, I tilted my wrist and poured a big splash right on his wound. I watched, with a perfectly innocent smile on my face, as his expression went from confused to horrified.

"Ow!" He screeched; thrusting out his hands to block the liquid. I was composed on the outside, but on the inside, I was dying of laughter. He was seething through his teeth and muttering incoherently.

"Stop whining. Didn't you just say, 'I'm fine, it's only a fleshwound'?" He looked up at me with shock dominating his eyes.

"What—why would you—ow!" He was still gasping from the blow; I brought my hand up to my mouth and giggled behind it.

"Are you sure you still want me to clean it?" I questioned smugly, he shook his head spastically.

"No! You can go now." He motioned with his chin toward the living room; I had to grab my stomach I was laughing so hard, I trotted out of the kitchen happily. That was _too_ good.

I could see my life more clearly, see things like this happening often, to contrast the serious times.

I sensed a light airy happiness in the room, although he was writhing in pain; maybe I could watch from a distance as he and his brothers played together. That would be an honor, to be let into this secret club they've formed together over the years of being together; to be a part of this family some day. Maybe Jasper would warm up to me eventually, I really hoped he would, he'd be like the protective older sibling. Emmett would be my equivalent of the loving brother I never had; and Edward…I couldn't see him as a brother. Not in anyway. What did this mean?

Watching Edward recover, I started to think; _really_ think. He's already agreed to let me into his home, for some sense of permanence, against what we both thought in the beginning. Is it possible I wasn't alone in my feelings? Was it possible that he was feeling this way? Maybe if we both were, we could work on our problems. And one day, hopefully smother them enough so that they die.

Before I could think of that, I had to determine just exactly what my feelings _were_.

Edward could infuriate me sometimes, to the brink of my sanity to where I would take intense satisfaction in watching him fall off a cliff; but other times, I want nothing more than to be by his side, and for his wellness.

Plus Edward was right in one regard; I would miss my side, and Alice. Was it worth it?

"_When I look back, the Garden is a dream. It was beautiful, enchantingly beautiful. And now it is lost. And I shall not see it anymore. The garden is lost, but I have him_." Eve lost the entire Garden, and yet she was happy; with Adam; _only_ Adam.

Did that mean… I could barely bring myself to say the words; even in my own mind. That was pretty pathetic.

Did I…_love_ Edward?

At that moment, I felt like I had finally put my finger right on the thing I had been looking for; I had pointed out the thing I'd been searching for, the emotion I was trying to identify.

_But come on_, I thought hysterically to myself, _it could be just a fondness, because he saved me, surely I don't love him!_ I didn't want to come out and say something that wasn't true; I might regret it later.

I couldn't...but I did…

What did_ I_ know about love anyway? For all I know I could be reading it wrong! I shouldn't go saying anything rash.

_I mean, he was the first man I ever met, that seems like quite an uncanny coincidence that I would love the first man I saw. Yeah, that's probably it._ I mused.

_Maybe it was meant to be._ Lo and behold, right on cue! The voice was here to tease and mock me in a time I'm most vulnerable.

_For all I know I could feel this way about any man who found me and rescued me._ I fought back.

_Not every man would save you and let take you into their home and harbor absolutely no mal intents. _

_ You phrase that like he's the only man who would, I'm sure Emmett would have._

_ But he didn't._

_ He could have._

_ But he _didn't.

"Arg!" I growled, grabbing my hair, only to remember I had cut it all off; I sighed, disgruntled.

I was not in love; especially not with _Edward_.

"Hey," He came hobbling out of the kitchen, huffing as he hopped one foot; I saw he had wrapped his shirt around the slash. "Can you help me to the basement so I can find the bandages; without maiming me any further, please?"

My eyes travelled from his leg upward to his chest; the only other time I'd seen him shirtless was at that old man's house. But I had made sure I had only seen from his shoulders up. Now, it was all out there. It was much more muscular than a woman's.

I don't know why, but for whatever odd reason, I liked it. A lot.

_Well_, I gawked openly, _that's a nice bonus_; I shrugged casually to myself, before getting up to help him.

_On second thought, maybe this whole love thing isn't so bad._

**If mother nature is kind, then you will get the rest of the teaser! Anyway, what did you think of her discovering love? Eh? **

**Review for the rest of the teaser:**

_**I stole one last glance at the house; the house that I thought would be my home, the house I once thought was heaven. Then, I spun around and pushed my legs toward the only direction I could think to go.**_

_**I ran toward The Wall.**_

_**My thoughts were in an emotional jumble— this was the last straw. I had been wrong about my father's death, for that was merely the teaser push toward the cliff. This, oh this, thrust me crudely off the cliff face. **_


	16. Chapter 15

**This is it guys...the one chapter that's I've been building up for since day 1. Put on your hard hats and buckle your seatbelts!**

**Chapter 15**

Jasper still hated me; nobody was surprised.

I tried talking to him, but he just scoffed and ignored me as if I were an infinitesimal insect; I was hurt by the blow off. He really despised me, truly and deeply. How could he develop this utter loathing? What did I do to deserve that?

Aside from that, Emmett is still loyal, which makes me feel a little better; but it makes me wonder how they're even related.

Showering was so much easier with short hair; I almost praised it. It took less than half the time and it dried quite quickly, maybe there was an upside to this whole hair thing.

But I didn't feel at ease, as I should have been; I feared this whole situation is teetering, barely balancing and that a fall is inevitable. It didn't _feel_ wrong though, which confused me to no end. I tried to dismiss it, for things were going pretty well.

Edward walked into the room, holding a small bag in his hand; I looked up curiously. He appeared to be going somewhere, with a determined look in his eyes.

"Where are you going?" I inquired, not able to take my eyes off the bag.

"Taking my shift at the hospital."

"Alright, don't kill anyone." I murmured, picking up the book I had been reading and turning the page, I secretly patted myself on the back for coming up with a witty comment so quickly; I was usually not good at those. At least, not before anyone ticked me off as much as Edward could.

"No promises." He chuckled. "Oh yeah and my dad wants to talk to him later about accommodating things around here for you." He said that as if he didn't understand why it was so important, and what accommodations had to be made; I was secretly glad that Carlisle knew just a little more about women than Edward, that way I wouldn't have to tell him about the more— ahem, _lady like_ things.

"Sure, now go away." I shooed him by waving my hand, and continuing to read; I keenly waited for the sound of the door opening and closing. When it clicked shut, and I was sure he was far enough away, I took out my father's journal I had been sitting on.

I relished the feeling of how the diamond fit perfectly into the key hole, and the clicking sound it made, indicating I was able to delve into the man I dreamed of knowing.

"Hey Bella!" Emmett greeted boldly, coming into the room. "Whatcha reading?" He smiled, completely unknowing; I gasped, pitifully covering up the book with my hands.

"Nothing." I quickly hid it behind my back and laid back on it, smiling to distract him.

"Have you seen Edward around?" He asked, twisting around, his eyes searching the room.

"You just missed him; shift at the hospital." I nodded, looking out the window. His face contorted in casual confusion.

"Huh, I thought today was Tuesday." He rubbed his chin, as Edward does, his eyebrows came down; what did the day matter?

"It _is_ Tuesday." I said in a quiet, careful voice; what was on Tuesday?

"Oh nothing, it's just… Edward doesn't go to the hospital on Tuesdays."

_What? Was it really Tuesday? Could I be wrong?_

"But how…?"

"Oh, don't worry about it, he probably just took another shift or something; he does that sometimes." He reassured me simplistically; he had such a one way track of thinking.

I sighed apprehensively and nodded in forced agreement, "Yeah, that's probably it." I tried to convince myself, but I couldn't shake this felling of awful foreboding over my head. He must have taken another shift, as Emmett said.

"Well, I'm going outside to wrestle with Jas." Emmett started, rolling up his sleeves until they rested on his shoulders. "Wanna watch? You can be the referee. Jas likes to cheat a lot and I hate it when there's no one else there to tell what really went down."

I was sure some words had come out of his mouth, but they slurred as I stared at his blank forearms.

"Emmett," I began slowly, searching for the tattoo on his arms. "Where is your…have you ever gotten a tattoo before?" I was sure Edward had said he and his brothers got a tattoo.

His face twisted in surprised confusion. "No…not that I can remember…or see." He murmured, examining his forearms. "Why ask?"

I laughed nervously, trying to cover up my uneasiness. "Oh no reason; it was hypothetical, really." I brushed it off.

After Emmett went to go wrestle, my suspicions grew exceedingly hard to ignore. They grew more and more pronounced. I decided to lose myself in the writings on my father; hoping to shake these doubts.

He _must_ have taken another shift, maybe another worker got sick or something; I didn't see any reason why he would have to lie. And Emmett seemed like he had a tendency to be absent-minded sometimes. I delved into the journal:

_**After The Wall goes up, they're going to keep disguised agents on the male side, instead of armed and ready officers as per the women's side. They think it will be easier to catch crime that way. Or **_**their**_** definition of crime.**_

_**However, there will be more armed and ready officers, then after about twenty years, when all of the women who are old enough to remember what it was like, are dead or too weak to fight, they're going to take away a good deal of the officers. The Volturi isn't stupid; they know that more than anything the women side will need a lot for stifling and throttling in the beginning**__**.**_

_Disguised_ agents? That thought was more bloodcurdling than the Hawks; there was no way to tell who you can trust. I wondered just how many undercover agents there were on the women side; was there anyone I knew that could be one?

_**I've discovered a loophole though, to be able to tell who the undisguised agents are; the Volturi loves their mark, their indication that someone belongs to them; and also to protect them and enforce their power if needed, like a police badge. I predict that they will mark their undercover agents—but I just don't know what with.**_

I prayed my father was right, and that the answer was somewhere in here; who knew, Jacob might have been an undercover agent. But then again, this was written so long ago, maybe this fact changed; things can change in the blink of an eye.

Next entry:

_**The days and nights blend together into one endless, tedious length of time; the construction of The Wall is almost complete, I fear of what might become of our world.**_

_**When the agents are undercover, they must report at few times a week to the closest Volturi branch. They're planning on marking specific individuals at a young age, perhaps preteens, to become agents. Which means they will aspire to become a Core member of the Volturi; it's too private, for all of them. So they must dedicate their life to the Volturi to be considered, they must show survival skills, patience, and ability to lie thoroughly if needed be.**_

I slapped my hand on top of the words, so I wouldn't have to read them; and my breathing got struggled, along with my heart rate.

_Survival skills_, the memory came flooding back to me like a tidal wave:

'_That's not the point.' His voice had no inflection. 'The point is this is a serious situation, and we can't afford the luxury.'_

_I threw my hands up in the air. 'And you think this is just a walk in the park for me? I'm sorry but I think I have the shorter end of the stick here.'_

_He turned to me, eyes ablaze. 'From what you told me, you've never had wildlife experience; am I correct?' Where was he going with this?_

'_Yes…' I admitted carefully, cocking an eyebrow._

'_That means you have different ways of surviving on your side than on mine.' He leaned closer to emphasize the point. 'On this side, however, you have to put in a little effort to make it through the day. As in, if you hesitate, wait, or panic, you die. If you have the time to doubt yourself, you're already too late.' He explained as if it were basic math._

'_I'm not following you.' The crippling bewilderment angered me._

'_I'm saying, you have to keep moving and never doubt yourself, to stay alive. To just go on your instincts.'"_

Well that could mean anything; it's not hard to learn survival skills when you live on this side. I needed to stop being so paranoid…

Patience.

_"__I had no idea why he was suddenly being so sympathetic and not hesitating to carry me as I let myself break down; I didn't have the strength to question it. I just knew I needed it; needed him. I was ashamed, taking advantage of him like this; but, I couldn't do this by myself… I was grateful for his seemingly infinite patience."_

I trembled; well patience was a hard quality to come across, but it wasn't a specialty or anything…

The ability to lie.

_"'Where are you going?' I inquired, not able to take my eyes off the bag._

_'Taking my shift at the hospital.'…_

'_Have you seen Edward around?' He asked, twisting around, his eyes searching the room. _

_'You just missed him; shift at the hospital.' I nodded, looking out the window; his face contorted in casual confusion._

_'Huh, I thought today was Tuesday.' He rubbed his chin, as Edward does, his eyebrows came down; what did the day matter?_

_'It _is_ Tuesday.' I phrased in a quiet voice; what was on Tuesday?_

_'Oh nothing, it's just, Edward doesn't go to the hospital on Tuesdays.'"_

He didn't go to the hospital on Tuesdays. My whole body shook at the thought, I tried to deny it, but the doubt kept growing like a weed inside my heart.

Edward couldn't be…it's wasn't possible… No. I refused to accept this stupid notion; it was just my paranoid nature.

I took my hand away from the paper tentatively, and read the next entry.

_**Eureka, I've made a breakthrough! I have discovered what they use to mark their undercover agents, this could can act as an edge to the Resistance…if there is one; an intricate, and bizarre tattoo on their forearm! I got to get a glimpse, and I drew an illustration below. **_

The whole world stopped; my mind went black, and suddenly, the room got very cold.

My subconscious blocked the terrible impending pain that was barreling towards me at the speed of light; I could literally feel the iciness as all the blood drained from my face. My eyes were wide, as I stared at nothing.

An intricate tattoo on the forearm; the illustration below my father's entry was the added insult to injury.

It resembled the one perfectly painted onto Edward's arm, to a tee. My body went numb, and for a few moments, I felt absolute nothingness. Those were the last remnants of anything besides gut wrenching, heart clenching pain; I would feel for awhile. The calm before the storm.

Like a punch to the face, like a kick to the gut, like a stab to the heart; the sheer, excruciating pain of betrayal and realization fell onto me like a ton of bricks. A ton of bricks that have been falling from the heavens ever since I first laid my eyes on his face.

I couldn't deny it any longer, there was my solid proof. I couldn't pass this off as paranoia.

Edward was an agent to the Volturi.

As soon as I thought the words, another wave of torment washed over, and choked me; my hand raced to my chest as I doubled over, and gasped for air.

How? Why? How could he do this to me? I'd put all of my trust— all of _myself_ in him; and it was being spat back in my face. How could he be part of the Volturi, the evil, sadistic organization that made The Wall; how could he aspire to be a part of _that_?

The knife of betrayal sank into my heart, and I felt myself slowly start to die inside.

In one second, every single time, every single _lie_, he had told became clear to me; hidden by my own ignorance, now shined brightly with this new information. The world around me collapsed, an illusion shattered; and I found I was all alone.

Now that I fit the pieces; it made sense. He'd been lying to me from the very beginning; about everything.

Desolation whipped at me, as I was being violently awoken from this dream I'd been living.

All of the small fibs, and monstrous deceptions blended together to form one big lie; everything I'd known since coming to this side was a lie.

How could I be so stupid? It was as plain as day to me now.

I brought my hand to my cheek, and I realized I was crying. And there was this awful howling sound that kept ringing in my ears; it took me a second to realize, that wailing was me.

I was rocketed back to reality, and I looked at my surroundings. Everything that was around me, the room, the clothes, the _couch_, felt tainted and wrong; as if I had just realized I was being poisoned this whole time. I couldn't stay here, he could turn me in at any time. It was what he was _trained_ for anyway.

Another sob ripped through me, and I thrust myself off of the couch, and found my legs pushing me toward the door. The pain of betrayal stung deep and plunged deep, eating away at me like acid.

"Hey, just where do you think you're going?" Ugh, not now! This was the last thing I needed.

Jasper stood, in all of his royalty, with a bag slung over his shoulder across the lawn; I just glared at him, feeling the tears rain down my cheeks. Why in the world would he of all people find me _now_?

"What's with _you_?" He snarked, with a hint of curiosity under his sarcasm; the sight of him, the sight of this man, who held so much hatred for me, broke me down even more. Being reminded of how much he despised me was something I could live without.

I stole one last glance at the house; the house that I thought would be my home, the house I once thought was heaven. Then, I spun around and pushed my legs toward the only direction I could think to go.

I ran toward The Wall.

My thoughts were in an emotional jumble— this was the last straw. I had been wrong about my father's death, for that was merely the teaser push toward the cliff. This, oh _this_, thrust me crudely off the cliff face.

As I pushed my legs harder and faster the only thing I could think was— _why_? Why would he do this to me? I felt it would have hurt less if he had revealed himself from the beginning; I wouldn't have fallen for him as hard as I did.

As I ran, it dawned on me that I cared for him much more than I had thought; it was much deeper than I had originally intended. It was so much more delicate, so much more serious; my heart was shattering into a million pieces. I was crumbling within myself.

I was so angry at myself. How could I possibly let myself get this deep? How could I have done this to _myself_?

I was sick of being deceived, and tired of being disappointed. Edward had been the one holding onto me when I came over here. He was there when I realized my father's death. Now, I had nobody, I was all alone in myself. He was never real.

It was all an illusion; _he_ was an illusion. I never loved him, I loved the lie; it was awfully true. Who was he really? He never cared for me. I was just his way to getting into the Core.

The Edward I knew had never truly existed.

Who was I kidding? This wasn't my side, this wasn't where I belonged; I was not meant to be in that family. I once thought I found myself here; the truth was, I lost myself in all the excitement. It came with a heavy price.

I didn't want to die— I wanted to never have been born. I could only take so much heartbreak in one period of time; any human being could only take so much.

The trees whizzed past me, and I could feel the pain of the cuts they made on my arms as they scratched me; I was flying through the ever encroaching forest. I used all my pain and anger to push myself, harder and faster.

I couldn't be anywhere near here when he got back, he would surely catch me. The agents were trained well in physical abilities after all.

I never wanted to see his face, his eyes; I fear I might turn to dust if I did from the pain. I thought of his bright smile, and almost tripped over my own feet.

I was running impossibly fast, faster than I have run before; my heart was immersed in a blaze that burned as hot as hells flames from the sudden physical exertion.

A flash of color, caught my eye, and I came to a halt. I stood, completely motionless in my own dying heart and saw something that only poured the acid into my injury.

Edward stood in front of a small building; the very same Edward I'd seen before.

The way he looked now, the way he always had, almost made me want to believe that what my father had wrote was a lie. I mean, how could he do something like this? It just wasn't in his nature.

Suddenly, I was corrected. A man dressed dangerously close to how the Hawks dress, stepped out of the building, standing tall and proud in his own authoritive position.

What was this? What had I found? Like a mouse, I scampered to hide behind an enormous tree.

I watched Edward's expression, to see if he knew this man.

Terribly, he smiled a weak smile in familiarity toward the hawk dressed in black; and he did the same. They _knew_ each other.

"When are you going to bring that thing you said was so important that you found by The Wall, to The Head Quarters?" The agent asked, scouring the trees for any sign of intrusion.

"Soon." He replied casually, with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Well Aro, Caius, and Marcus are waiting for you to bring it, they're growing impatient; you said you were preparing it before you brought it right?" The man inquired, glaring at Edward warningly.

Wait, were they talking about _me_?

"I know but it's not… _mended_, yet." He said back to the man.

Great. I was an '_it' _now.

"You might just have to bring it in broken; you don't want to upset them." He said in a mature, knowing way.

"I know." He uttered cold unfeeling. My heart collapsed even further; I never thought such a thing could be possible.

This was the real Edward, this heartless, callous monster who was nothing more than just another hawk.

I didn't want to believe it, I wanted to deny it more than anything; but I couldn't reject what I was seeing. He had to put on the act; he must have known that I would love his act to keep me from being suspicious. He must have—

_Let no one else in the world read this; everything is not as it seems_. My father had written that in the front of the journal.

I almost let out a hysterical laugh, a one full of insanity and lunacy. My father had been far wiser than I expected. I was so relieved I had listened. For without it, I would still have been under Edward's spell.

Then, the agent put his hand to the ground and started feeling around.

Almost miraculously, his hand came back up, holding a handle; he grunted in exertion and opened, something.

He had opened a door, leading into the ground.

Edward then stepped down through the hole in the ground, and he appeared to be walking down a flight of stairs; it was an underground tunnel! Then the agent shut the door and the pathway became invisible once more.

My fears were realized. It was no lie, it was no dream. This was real, horribly real; Edward was a member of the Volturi; or attempting to become one.

The vision of the one person I thought I could trust on this side, disappeared.

Turning on my heels, I spun around and sprinted away; I had to get as far away as fast as my weak legs could take me. I continued to run.

I wasn't sure if I was running home, or running away from home.

My vision blurred as the tears began to build up, when I smacked into something. Big.

Along with the hit, I was also slammed with a big heap of the strangest déjà vu. Like I'd been running before, and I ran into The Wall…

The scene changed.

**I was on my own side, my hair was back (more like it had never left), this piercing pain was spreading through my head, and my face tickled. I realized it was blood trickling down my nose. I was wearing my terrible dress, with the ruffles on the sleeves. My eyes were rimmed red, and the walls around me began to spin. **

As soon as the vision had started it ended with a flash of light; I staggered back away from The Wall, my eyes wild.

I stared up at the dark clouds looming overhead; sightlessly. Thunder clashed above me so loud I almost had to cover ears; a single raindrop fell right on where the blood had been in the vision.

It hadn't been a vision; it was a _memory_.

_Run_, the voice commanded in a sudden burst of existence, and I didn't hesitate. Although my legs burned, I continued to sprint frantically along the side of The Wall. My subconscious was searching, scouring for something, but I didn't know what that was.

More and more rain droplets fell until I running through a light sprinkle; I was sure Jasper had told someone by now. I had to be quick. But where could I hide?

The only truly safe place on this side was the place I could never return to.

A break in The Wall caught my eye, I propelled myself toward it as the frantic relief built up inside me; when I got close enough to see, I was pounded with another memory.

**I was behind a chain-link fence, losing consciousness, when hidden behind a yellow construction tape, a large opening in The Wall shone; from the yellow tape I could tell it was about to worked on. **

Funny, I remembered the opening bigger.

Examining it closer, I saw that it was being repaired, and that it was almost too small for me to squeeze through. Thunder cracked over head and a burst of lightening illuminated the now darkened sky, I knew I was running out of time.

There was a way to my side this whole time. If only I'd insisted on coming here earlier, it would have saved me a lot of stress and time.

It had been completely in my grasp this whole time, it was what I wanted; what I needed.

But a small, insignificant voice in my heart wanted to go back and hear it from Edward's lips; for him to explain himself. And possibly work it out.

_However, he would know you know his secret; he will no longer have to lie, the delusion would have broken. He would turn you in._

I sucked in a deep breath; no. I cannot go back now; I was now on a major exodus, I couldn't return. The road back was gone, there was only forward.

I looked under my feet and saw a deepening in the grass, where someone had been laying not too long ago. Another memory followed the last.

**I couldn't lift my head; I was too tired, too broken. A shadow loomed over me. I was barely able to register their being, let alone their face. They bent down, and suddenly, I was airborne; my head lolled back and the rocking began. I was being carried away.**

It was Edward. My subconscious shouted; with that name, I was knocked to my knees, clawing at my chest absently.

_You can do this, just get to your own side, and you can break down affectively, then._ I prepped myself. I glared determinedly, before I started crawling pathetically through the mud.

The Wall had to be at least twenty feet in thickness, and I was amazed I didn't become claustrophobic; to have the product of the evil Volturi directly above me, ready to crush me wasn't a settling thought. I had to persevere.

I cried softly into the gravel on which I crawled on.

I'd had my whole life set up, now it was lost; it was stupid and careless. Not just the life I'd set up here, but the life I'd set up on the women's side.

I wasn't anything like Eve. I was nowhere near her caliber, and our story wasn't like that. Ha, I was a fool to think that this could be real.

I poked my head out from under The Wall, and stared at the women's side— _my_ side. My home.

Exasperatedly, I scampered out, eager to drown my sorrows in any way possible. To forget I was ever there, that Edward ever existed. That any of it ever existed. I craved the ignorance of the constructed society we had; I was suddenly able to understand Mother's intents much more clearly.

The rain was pouring down like a waterfall now, but I ran straight through it; in an effort to get lost in my old life and away from the delusion.

When I broke through the alleyway and into the cobblestone street; I was hit by a sense of familiarity. This street; the street I grew up on. My home, I knew every inch of this avenue like the back of my hand. It was the first thing I saw when I walked out the door, and when I returned home.

Yet, it seemed so eerily foreign.

Slowing to a walk, I let the strange feelings of being home crash upon me, to layer them on top of the pain. To smother it. I still couldn't believe I had so easily made it home, yet my memory hadn't returned fully, it had flashed back in fragments.

I took in the common scene of Frieda's Vegetable Shop, along with Agatha's Beauty Parlor, then Alexandria's Antique Store; it didn't give me the same dull feeling it gave me before. It appeared refurbished, a slightly off look to the old.

As I took in the new, old environment, I compared it to how I used to see it, and I realized it wasn't home that had changed._ I_ had changed.

I didn't want to be different! I wanted to fit back into my old life, not come back changed! Just another slap to the face on top of it all.

Well, I certainly knew more than anyone that memories came and went. Edward, Jasper, Emmett, Carlisle, Father, and Jacob. They will fade in my mind, as they should.

I stopped dead in my tracks as I remembered something; when I left _that_ house, I left my father's journal lying open on _that_ couch.

_Let no one else in the world read this; everything is not as it seems_.

But, I left it there, for anyone to read. No! Edward will find it; I'll never get to finish it—

_I thought you wanted nothing more than to forget. _The voice whispered; I could have strangled myself just to kill it.

_I'm not in the mood, to deal with you, just leave me alone_. I fought limply, and it left. I never believed it would actually do what I said. That was a good sign I supposed.

"Hey, you!" An overwhelmingly wonderful _female_ voice called out.

I spun around; shock and excitement blindly rushing through me. But when I saw who it was, I wanted to spin right back.

It was a Hawk that had called out to me, while the other stood silently beside her; they were forever menacing in their black armor and look of malice in their eyes.

_Run! _The voice commanded, urging me along; I jerked back, resisting its strong influence.

_No, that'll make me seem guilty!_ I fought, keeping my feet planted to the wet ground upon which I stood.

_You _are_ guilty_.

My hands trembling slightly; I brought the hood of the cloak up and over my head, and quickly closed it so my male clothes could not be seen. I just wanted to return home so I could get rid of them forever. But how to get them past Mother was an almost impossible feat.

"Yes, madams'?" I choked as soon as they got closer, I shivered, but not from the cold. Two hawks, looked nastily at me, as if I were just a piece of trash. Useless and dirty. I was sure I looked dirty, but I was positive they looked at everyone they could catch a glimpse of that way.

"Why aren't you inside? It's raining." They commanded, no inflection in their hard voices; they looked down on me; showing their authority quite well.

I'd never been in trouble before; I'd never had to answer to a Hawk. I was a good girl, or I was supposed to be.

"I was walking home." My voice cracked in a few places, and I slyly tried to cover my face a little more with the hood. They glared upon me with a look that could strike fear into anyone's soul; their weapons glistened in the rain.

"What's your name?" She asked suspiciously; I was ready to answer my real name, when I stopped to think for a second.

In a rash decision, I decided to lie.

"Mary…" I wracked my mind for something; only one other last name came into my mind. I wanted anything in the world not to say it, but they were watching me. I had to keep my composure. "_Felton_. Mary Felton."

The name stung and threatened to bring me to the ground again from the ache. They didn't seem too convinced at my pathetic answer.

"Well _Mary_," She dug through her pocket and took out a folded piece of paper. "If you see this girl, let us know. Do you know who she is?" She held the paper in front of my face.

I nearly staggered back.

It was _me_.

It read in huge letters 'WANTED' at the top, and gave my full name; I was extraordinarily relieved at my barely dodging that. It even had a reward. It gave my description as 'pale, long, thick brown hair, and brown eyes'.

Why weren't they arresting me? Throwing shackles on me? As I reread the description, I realized just exactly why I was still a more or less free woman.

I was safe; safe because I no longer fit that description.

My hair was short, and my face was as more tan now that I have been exposed to the outdoors. My decisions on the other side helped cover my hide on this one.

"No… but sure, I'll keep an eye out." I almost lost my guts, I almost ran; but I kept my restless body firmly in place.

I looked upon the Hawks, and all I could was Edward; how they were associated. My tears were constantly flowing, but you couldn't tell form the rain; watching them, the tears threatened to turn into obnoxious wails. I had to turn my head roughly to the side, to stare at an insignificant puddle and watch my own horrified, weak expression I had unknowingly put on my face.

"You be sure to do that, we'll be watching you. Goodbye Mary." They both turned slowly, keeping their eyes glued on me for as long as the rain had allowed. They eventually turned fully around and began patrolling the road. I didn't start to run until I was positive they were out of sight.

My heart raced as I let the staggering fear finally set in; I had nearly been caught.

But why was I 'wanted'? What had I done? I wasn't just 'missing'; I was 'wanted'.

I was so close. I wasn't welcome on my side; I wasn't welcome on the other side. I belonged nowhere.

By some hunch, I decided to lie, and by some miracle, I had decided to cut my hair; all in an effort to survive. They had worked better than I had originally planned.

Disappearances were a scarcity in Hollow Wood, but when they did occur, it was like opening Pandora's Box.

It made sense that they would go all out to secure the order of our community. But the Hawks didn't seem worried, not that I expected them to be. But it seemed like they were looking for me to _do_ something to me, not just to find me. A fleeting feeling of nausea overtook me.

I just needed to get home, then everything would be alright; the search would be called off, everything would be fine again.

` _You say that as if it was fine before_. The voice said, in a mocking way. I pushed it to the back of my mind and trudged to where I truly belonged.

This experience was to be forgotten; the time I let my guard down.

I always told myself I wouldn't ever let that happen, except with Alice, for she never hurt me. Now I was aching in places I never thought existed, I was feeling emotions I never believed were there. Such a display of stupidity, I should never let it be known.

And yet, I felt like I just wanted to crawl into a hole and die, not go back to my life as if nothing happened; I knew that was what I had to do, but I didn't want to.

The wound was still burning with a ferocity that no one should ever have to feel; I almost dropped to the ground to just disintegrate. I had to pull it together for everyone, as if nothing happened; how was that possible? Because, no matter how much I wanted to deny it, something _did_ happen.

I was back to my side, the illusion and now it was destroyed. All fake. I felt like I had taken off a blindfold I had been wearing my whole life, and everyone else around me was smiling, wearing their own.

The illusion was broken, but I wanted it back. For with the changes, came him— his face, his eyes, his very essence. I despised it.

My feet pounded harder on the stone of the road, as I quickened my pace. What was I to tell Mother of my absence? The truth— or parts of it? That I had woken up in a strange place with no memory of how it happened? That was halfway true. It wouldn't be a lie; it would be an easier story to tell. But how did I get back? Such a complex problem; I decided I would improvise; I just needed to get off the streets.

In the distance, the glimmer of Mother's lawn ornaments acted as a beacon to home; I ran for it.

It felt like I'd been freshly slapped in the face; the worst part was I had welcomed it. I had allowed it to happen. I had let him passed my own wall I'd put up. That was inexcusable. I just hope nobody who mattered found out; I wanted that part of my life to be a grey empty space.

The voice jumped to life, and was suddenly longing to be home too; a flash of shock ran through me. The voice was eager too. I passively noted how strange it was that the voice and I were in agreement.

I was dashing through the deserted street, my feet getting soaked by puddles, the cold whipped viciously at my face. The weather had turned from relatively warm, to wickedly cold; ironic.

Just get home, it will all be okay from there. A feeling of beautiful familiarity enveloped me in its grasp, home. It sounded so enticing. My feet carried me to the wooden, arched doorway, elegantly designed.

I raised my fist up, to knock on it, when a sudden, terrifying, blood curdling feeling of raw indecision and doubt shot through me like an arrow.

It was like I was being choked when I was whammed with the last memory; all the grey area I'd been missing. The last piece of gruesome puzzle.

A flood of emotions blocked out all of my other senses; that day at school. Miss Garratt, her breakdown, my awareness, Alice and her talk. Waking up to the curtains; Mother's room—

Mother's room. The pictures, the necklace, the ring; _that's_ how I got the necklace. I let out a garbled cry as I grabbed my short hair; so this was the memory that had eluded me! Such cruel fate! Mother, discovering me…and then, the fall.

I seethed and touched my now pounding head at the recollection of the injury.

The Hawks _were_ after me, but for a much more horrifying reason.

I wasn't supposed to come back, it wasn't safe here! I suddenly felt very vulnerable and very naked; I brought my hand away from the door and turned on my heels to run in the other direction. As if a fire were at my heels.

I had been so close to letting myself be known; this was the memory I'd been longing for. And the whole time on the other side I wished to come _back_?

I had been so foolish, so utterly and completely stupid! I wasn't welcome anywhere, I could be yanked and dragged off to jail right now. This was the reason I had run to the other side, and now I could never go back.

I couldn't go home, I couldn't go back, and I couldn't stay outside. Where was I safe?

I found my body already knew; it was walking in one direction; to the only salvation I had left.

_Lucinda's Fabric Shop_.

**Lots of drama happening; review please? I want to hear all of your initial reactions!**

**Review for the rest of the teaser:**

_**"What? What's wrong?" Alice's voice dropped along with her eyebrows.**_

_**I sniffled, and dove straight into the emotions. "He was my friend once, and then I found I liked him much more than that." I started, getting prepared to talk about the lies. She just sat there, as confused as ever.**_

_**"What do you mean 'more than a friend'? Like a… **_**best**_** friend?" She muttered scandalously.**_

_** I groaned and rubbed my temples; she didn't understand. I would have to spell it out for her.**_


	17. Chapter 16

**Lots of you have been asking for Edward's POV, so later on, I might, but for the moment, it's still pretty essential that we keep this party in Bella's POV. Perhaps later, then we could move this shindig to the male side!**

**Chapter 16**

I was lost, broken, and bleeding; I knew there was only one person in the world who would take me in.

Alice. Although she had warned me, I hadn't listened. Now I was reaping the consequences of those actions.

I banished myself from my own world, and made an outcast of myself in the other; what else was there? I could never be known again as Isabella Swan; I could never go out into the world by that identity.

Thankfully, her store wasn't too far, or I felt I would have broken down again. I sort of wished I hadn't gotten my memory back; I yearned for that ignorance once more. I wanted that blackness of not having a worry in the world.

I brought my hand up, paused for another memory; and thankfully received none. I let my fist knock as lightly as possible; I kept my hood down over my face in the event that Lucinda answered. What _if_ she answered? Then I'd have to run, run even more.

The door creaked open and, to my extreme relief, Alice stood rubbing her eyes; I saw she was already in her nightgown. That horrid thing Lucinda had made for her. My heart raced and I felt like I could finally breathe; I needed to see her. I had missed her a lot more than I thought.

"Yes?" She muttered tiredly, seeming to be bothered by a disturbance. But she straightened up, thinking I was someone important; she wasn't supposed to be casual with women.

"Alice, it's me." I whispered with a broken sob, stepping up closer to her; her eyes widened in surprise and she took a step back.

"Look ma'am, I'm not supposed to let strangers—"

"Alice, it's _me_." I growled, pulling down my hood; my eyes were ferocious as I glared into hers, I didn't have the energy to play the guessing game.

Her eyes opened even wider, and she covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes started to water. I vaguely wondered why, and my resolve wavered.

"Bella?" She cried, almost like she couldn't believe it was true and that uttering my name would hurt her; I sighed.

"Yes, can I come in, _please_?" I desperately needed a shoulder to cry on; she nodded and motioned for me to get down; I looked behind me, into the pouring rain one last time before I crouched down on my knees, and started to crawl in the way Alice walked.

Luckily, her room was downstairs, as opposed to her Mother's, being upstairs; the warmth from the shop was inviting. I felt I would break down into horrible sobbing any minute, but I attempted to keep the roaring waters sealed up.

Once in her classically decorated room, she opened her closet, in which we both crawled into.

When we were inside, the first thing she did, which I hadn't foreseen, was she grabbed me into a hard and heartfelt embrace, filled with so much relief.

I was overcome with the emotion, and I did something I'd been holding back for the entire day. I let my mask slip, and I began to wail hideously into her shoulder. I held onto her and cried mournfully into her shoulder.

"Oh Bella." She cried in a muffled way, to stifle the noise. "What happened to you? I've missed you so much!" She clung to me, as if she thought I would vanish. I let out a small laugh, I truly had missed her. She was like a breath of fresh air; I'd missed her a lot more than I had thought that much was true.

"I—I…" I mumbled incoherently. I couldn't tell her I went to the other side, could I? "I can't tell you." I sobbed, not wanting to see her face; I knew the dishonesty would kill her.

"Why? Bella, you can tell me anything." She suddenly gasped and grabbed my hair in dismay. "And, and, your hair! _What happened to you hair?" _She half shrieked, feeling it and grabbing it in disbelief; her hands grazed it and just marveled at length, she looked so shaken by it.

"Thanks Alice." I whispered cynically. I didn't like it; I didn't need her telling me how horrid it looked. "I cut it."

Her eyebrows came down in incomprehension. "Why would you do that?"

I looked up, feeling so vulnerable and muted. "I can't tell you! I want to Alice, I really do, but I can't!" My hands wrapped around her arms like if I were to let go, I would fall into an empty abyss. Hurt dominated her face, hers eyes bored into mine in confusion pain. It killed me inside.

I felt so stifled, I wanted to tell her more than anything; I'd never wanted her to tell her anything more before. I wanted to rant; I wanted to call Edward so many bad things, that I would forget how to use proper English.

"Please, Bella, you don't sound like yourself. Tell me what happened." She held me close to her and rested her head on my own. I stared into her eyes, she stared right back; my resolved slowly broke down, like bread to water. I couldn't hold it back any longer.

"I…" I started, having to force the next part out. "Crossed The Wall. I went to the other side." I whimpered, not wanting to hear her reaction.

She suddenly released me and scooted back until she hit the wall of her closet; she stared at me, like I was an outsider. Her eyes were filled with terror and disbelief.

"You didn't." She whispered, her eyes watching me carefully.

"Yeah." I nodded, thinking she was merely shocked; and interested look entered her gaze.

"How did you survive?"

"I…befriended someone." I said, with my head facing the floor, more than befriended; she gasped.

"A _man_?" Her voice was so high I could barely understand her soprano trill.

"Yes." I answered, still not meeting her gawk.

"What was it like?" She leaned forward, staring at me as if I were a brand new color that had just been discovered.

"You know, it was alright." I shrugged, not too enticed to go into explicit detail in describing it to her. I just wanted to vent about _him_.

"I _don't_ know! Please, tell me! How did you befriend him? Was he an animal? Did you give him treats?" She was practically bouncing up and down. What? What was she talking about?

"No Alice, you have it all wrong, some are really nice, and they're not all that different from us." I barely understood the words coming out of my mouth. "Ole' Rust was a nice place, really."

"Wait, what's an 'Ole' Rust'?" She interrupted, holding her palms forward. "Was that his name?"

"No, that's a city." It went right over her head; she just stared back with a blank expression.

"City?" She pronounced cautiously.

"Yes." I answered, a bit irritated.

"Like in the old days?" She was insatiable.

"Yes."

"Well what's _his_ name? Did you overpower him with intellect and reason?" She had scooted back to me, with curiosity as her only priority.

I snarled. "Look Alice, I don't want to talk about that, and no. But stop stereotyping, they're not like that."

She rolled her eyes. "Then, please Bella, enlighten me." She crossed her hands over her chest, and cocked an eyebrow.

I had to phrase this carefully. "The school is wrong. Men are not that bad." Not _all_ men. One was though. "They're sort of like us…but not really. It's hard to explain. It's weird, but great in a way." I trailed off, mediating her expression. Her expression went from interested to devastated. "Alice, what's wrong?"

Her eyes closed, "Bella, stop talking like that. We had this conversation before."

"How could you say that though? I was _there_, I know it! It's the only thing I'm sure of." I turned her face so I could look her in the eyes.

"No Bella, you've been through so much. You need to let this go. I don't know what happened over there, but it's wrong." She cried, as if I were gone. "Besides, it can't be that great, you're in tears."

I paused, taking a moment to take in her demeanor.

She was right; in a way. I was in tears, I was sad (an understatement), and yet, I was defending it. It was the side I was defending, not Edward.

"It's not the side I'm crying for it was, the man I befriended." I choked; this was it.

"What? What's wrong?" Alice's voice dropped along with her eyebrows.

I sniffled, and dove straight into the emotions. "He was my friend once, and then I found I liked him much more than that." I started, getting prepared to talk about the lies. She just sat there, as confused as ever.

"What do you mean 'more than a friend'? Like a… _best_ friend?" She muttered scandalously.

I groaned and rubbed my temples; she didn't understand. I would have to spell it out for her.

"_No_, Alice." I took a deep and thought of a way to explain this in a way she could comprehend. "You know the stories about men and women the Crazies told?"

"Sure, but what does…" Understanding brightened in her eyes for a split second, and when it came, it was replaced with terror. "No, Bella, you're not…"

I nodded in shame and closed my eyes.

"Pregnant?"

My head shot up.

"_What?_" I didn't even think about what that would have required. "Where did you…how—?"

"Well I read in textbooks that long ago that was usually what these conversations led to! That it used to be a huge problem before The Change. Teenage pregnancy and all that, I just assumed."

"Alice." I said in a silent rage. "This whole, thinking and assuming thing isn't working out for you. Stop it."

"Then what is it?" She popped back up enthusiastically.

"You were thinking of the textbook answer." I repeated to myself. I sighed, still shaken by the answer she had given me. Had she really thought that of me? "No, think harder."

She cocked her head and careful contemplation.

I choked back a sob. "Please, don't make say it out loud." I whimpered; I feared what sobbing fit I would go into if I told her the 'L' word. Oh, what has happened to me? Since when did I become so…I couldn't even think of an adjective to describe it! It was stupid, it was weak; it was everything I had become.

"Love?" She asked in a quiet voice; I almost doubled over in pain.

"Yeah, that." I gasped, my eyes wide, staring unseeingly.

"Oh Bella," She moaned, covering her face with her hands. "How did _that_ happen?"

"I don't know!" I nearly shrieked, grabbing my short hair in frustration. "But he lied, and found out it was all fake!"

"Wait, what was fake?" She stopped me once again.

"Him! He was just being that way to me to get me to the Volturi. To turn me in as soon as he could." I gasped at the shock wave that came from saying the words out loud.

"I find that hard to believe." She said quietly, my head shot up once more. "If he really wanted to turn you in you wouldn't be here. Why would he have waited so long?" She cocked her head to the side.

"Well because I was injured." I muttered.

"You said they were like us, and if I were a Hawk, I would have…" She stopped. "Besides, you have no proof that he's affiliated with the Volturi." I opened my mouth once again to speak.

"Yes I do—"

"Look, Bella." She placed her hand on my shoulder and drew me toward her. She stroked my hair in a motherly way. "I know this must be confusing, but a few days back in normality should get you thinking clearly; I guarantee it." She whispered.

"I'm already convicted; the Hawks are already looking for me." I muttered lowly, my eyes digging in hers. She and I just weren't on the same page. She just gazed back with a disbelieving expression.

She… actually thought I was _lying_.

I stared, dumbstruck. We weren't on the same page. This whole conversation, we never were. She wasn't going to listen to me; I now had nobody in the world. Absolutely nobody. The last person in the world to care for me was gone; my supposed best friend had turned to someone else.

She was now trying to convince me I was insane, and everything that had changed in me was wrong. Who knows, maybe she's right. But I couldn't believe that.

I pled to her with my eyes, hoping she'd turn back to the Alice I knew; for I was now looking at a stranger. But she only stared at me back, with a foreign expression.

Like I was an alien.

Gathering what remained of my dignity and self respect; I stood up and opened the closet door.

"Bella, what are you doing?" She half screamed, grabbing my arm with the grip that could kill. I look to her with a cold and emotionless expression, and spoke with no inflection.

"If you're going to treat me like I'm just another _Crazy_, then I can't stay here." My voice cracked a bit at the end, her eyes turned into two pools filled with hopelessness. "No matter what you say, I know what happened. If you can't accept that and be my friend, I don't belong here."

The words looked like they sliced through her, her eyes were pained; and with that, her grip on my arm loosened her hand slipped away.

I felt my life leave me as I stepped quietly through the shop, and walked like a ghost into the pouring rain.

With the last remains of my humanity left back there with Alice, I became just another faceless silhouette, on a trek to nowhere, in the storm of my life.

With nowhere to go, and no one to bail me out of this one, I took it upon myself to try to find a place to sleep for the night. I had walked all night. I couldn't tell how long I walked, for the moon was obscured by the storm clouds, but it felt like forever.

Icy water soaked my entire body as it fell from the grey, gloomy clouds overhead, and dripped from my fingertips and the end of my hood; I counted how many drips fell from the front of my hood, using it as my marker for time.

I'd walked far enough so that I was out of the colony, and was now on the side of the countryside road. Still untouched by civilization.

Earlier, I had noted I'd never been out of my colony on this side, but I figured I was way past that point; I was now a professional at running away and wandering into unknown territory.

Nobody lived out here, it was uninhabited; when I got far enough away, I was hit by déjà vu once more. The Wall seemed to get smaller and smaller on the horizon, I was now equally as far away from it then I was on that side. When I trusted him fully.

The irony was spiteful. I couldn't even see the mountaintops on the male side, for they were too far away. Almost like they never existed.

I knew not where I was going, and a part of me didn't care; as long as it was away.

My heart was growing numb now; I was able to focus on the road to keep my mind off of my ghosts that were haunting me.

The mountains in the distance on _this_ side were sad looking, the trees were of the same species, just shorter and tamed. It broke my heart. This side could possess the attitude the other one side, it was stifled. I could see the trees were screaming to be allowed to grow taller, let their branches spread, let their vegetation grow free and wild.

The thing I clung to was the words my father wrote on the back of the necklace, its purpose was fulfilled; I used it to unleash the truth, and my doom. I would keep it despite its uselessness; it was a remnant of whatever love I could receive.

Before I left the colony, I did something I never dreamed I would do. I stole.

I stole a dress; it was kind of essential. Although I knew I needed to get rid of the man clothes, I still felt guilty about stealing. I had to blend in somehow. But I kept the cloak, I couldn't let it go; I had to hide my appearance, I also just plain didn't wish to throw it out. I was fond of how mysterious it made me; I didn't have to put up any appearances. I was just a blank face.

Eventually, I needed a break; I told myself I would just rest for a second, and then keep going. I shut my eyes for a second, and when I reopened them, the sun was streaming brilliantly through the trees' canopy.

I pried my eyelids open, and brought myself up onto my feet; the ache in my legs that I was now used to after walking so much wasn't there. I was momentarily confused, it didn't hurt so much to walk anymore, and I guessed my body was finally getting used to the physical exertion.

Lucking out, I found an apple tree, which contained glistening, enticing, red apples. My mouth was practically watering; I had kept the man clothes in case I got cold, and I took the shirt and used as a make-shift bag, taking around ten apples. Who knew when I would come across food again?

I also found a stream, with pristine water, that was as clear as diamonds. I eagerly took a drink, slightly discontented by the fact that I could not take any with me.

Before going to that side, I never would have made it this far; I wouldn't have had the survival skills to survive more than three feet from my house if I hadn't taken that journey through the forest. I guessed I had that much to thank the harshness of the forest.

I was unknowingly being prepared; I could do this. I had the strength and experience to handle this situation. I could make it.

After a few hours, I saw a woman on a horse carrying goods, except they were fabrics and clothing. Not hay this time; I was once more slapped in the face by memories.

I had asked her politely for a ride. When she asked me where, I just replied 'anywhere'. I hopped into the back and began to think, she had said we were going to Mystic Waters, which would take another day or two.

It crossed my mind about when Edward got us a house to stay in Ole' Rust, and how he got us a ride back; I just figured it was a coincidence. I was sure the only reason the woman let me ride in the back was because I must have looked so pitiful, I couldn't be a thief (though I was in a way).

Father had said that the agents use their authority as if they were already members to get what they want; I supposed all they had to do was show them their tattoos.

Had Edward used his tattoo to strike fear into the men we came in contact? He'd asked me to stay outside for a reason, and the man was also shaking like he'd just seen a ghost. Edward had said he had a disease. However, Edward lied about lots of things. I could only assume he lied about this too.

I imagined it, Edward going into the old man's house, merely having to lift up his sleeve, to bully the old man into letting us stay there. I was suddenly very disgusted with myself. If I had known what Edward did to get us a place to stay, I would have slept on the streets. My burning hatred flared higher and increased in potency.

He was so cruel. How could he do that? How could _anyone_ do that?

What kind of heartless monster was he? Even if we needed a place that's no reason to bully innocent people around, the guilt now burrowed deeper into my heart.

I bet he used his power to get us a ride back too, how many times has he done this _before_ I came? I had been so utterly blind.

That was the highlight of the trip. I just stared up at the sky the rest of the time; when nightfall came, and we stopped and took a break.

It was uncomfortable though, she kept observing me in a suspicious way; didn't she understand if I was going to rob her, I would have done it already? In an attempt to ease her, I offered her an apple. She refused it coldly.

I slept in the back, she'd made sure to move her good dresses away from me, where she rested; her distrust irritated me, but it wasn't my main issue.

I spent the night planning about what I would do when I got to Mystic Waters; I prayed it had less Hawks, and that they weren't looking for me as persistently as Hollow Wood was. Something told me they would be though. Maybe if I stayed hidden, I could make a new living for myself. Possibly get a job at a vegetable shop. Go under an alias.

Maybe if I stayed hidden, I could achieve some partial form of happiness. I dreamt of a new life, a very fragile, delicate new life.

From staying up late, I woke up late; the sun was past its peak, indicating it was a little past noon, maybe twelve-thirty. I finished off my apples without guilt, because the woman said that we would reach Mystic Waters in a few hours. She had started riding at around five in the morning; I wished I could wake up so early.

After hours of me staring up at the sky, I started to see the first signs of a town; it started with little cottages, and then turned into two story homes, and finally shops.

I was in awe; Mystic Waters was so different. Almost no Hawks roamed the streets, and the ones that did were cheery and laughing along with women who talked to them. Although some were standing erect and proper, others laugh boisterously and shoved each other jokingly in the streets. I shot up, just staring at the joy that filled this town.

The Hawks still had weapons, but they were tucked away as they smiled knowingly toward shopkeepers, little girls walked around with ice cream in their small hands, licking enthusiastically.

The town radiated contentment and glee. I wished I'd known such a place existed sooner. I longed to stay here, for as long as I could. This was a place I wanted to be my whole life, everyone was carefree, and joyful.

But something seemed to be missing; it was cheery, yet, somehow forced. Or maybe that was my point of view.

This was happiness at its peak; so why wasn't I happy?

I was glad this place was real, but it lacked something. Perhaps it was the fact that I was an outlaw now? No, it seemed like, it could be happier if…I didn't know. I couldn't put my finger on what it lacked, all I knew was that it lacked.

The cart stopped in front of a dress shop, and I hoped off of it.

"Thank you ma'am." I thanked her; as I was about to walk away, she stopped me.

"Wait!" She called, catching up to me, I spun around, confused. "Do you need a place to stay?" She asked. I paused; was she really asking me this? I had caught vibes that she despised me.

"Um…yes." I muttered, still waiting for the catch.

"Well, why don't you come in my shop? I have to go to the market real quick, but wait there." She replied, seeming like she genuinely asking. Warmth spread through me, and I smiled back as brightly as I could; who knew she was so nice?

"Thank you very much." I answered gratefully, and entering the shop. She disappeared into the streets.

I sighed and let my eyes wander around the quaint little shop; she really did have a nice inventory of dresses.

Was she really going to let me stay here tonight? I wondered if she would offer me a job here. That would be nice. Get right on my feet when first coming here.

I let my fingers feel over the fabrics, as the smile stayed permanently plastered on my face.

After a few minutes, I spotted a beautiful dress on display; it was green and had had long sleeves made out of satin. The way she was displaying it; higher above all others; I could tell she was truly proud of it.

I made a beeline toward it; it was gorgeous, but strangely familiar. I wondered if I made enough money, I could buy it eventually.

I picked up the tag and read the price, and almost fainted. It cost so much! I found out why though. It said 'two of a kind' on the tag.

I went rigid.

My eyes trailed downward, in between the opening in the cloak.

The dress I had stolen was the exact shade of green, the same fabric, the same design, the same everything. Uh-oh. They were the same dress.

In that moment, the door was thrust open, and could hear three Hawks charge in along with an infuriated store owner.

"There she is, she's the one who stole my dress!" She pointed at me accusingly. It all fit together now; she invited e to stay only to make sure wouldn't run away.

Three Hawks, the same merry ones I'd seen outside, had changed and looked exactly the same as the ones in Hollow Wood; cold, and angry.

I gasped in betrayal and let the tag drop; I could only stare. My heart clenched, like I'd just been punched in the gut. I had been doing so well, I was almost in the clear, and now, I was going to get arrested for something insignificant compared to all else.

They all stomped toward me and gripped my forearms, I yelled out in pain; I could only gawk at the woman. I knew it was only what I deserved, but to think, I actually thought she was going to take me in.

I was so close. Now it was ripped away.

I faced utter humiliation as the Hawks carried me out; the street went silent as they gazed at the girl with the funny looking hair get arrested; I supposed that didn't happen often here.

To think, I let it happen again. I put my trust in someone; and it was thrown back in my face. Maybe I should just stop. Stop fighting my fate. I was never meant to function in society; I had to face that truth. I belonged absolutely nowhere. Except jail.

The silence was piercing as the Hawks put hand cuffs around my wrists and sat me on a buggy to go who knows where. I blushed and turned my head downward, not able to look into the faces of the townspeople.

_So close…_I thought to myself in a daze; I was finished.

I couldn't fight even if I wanted to; I was going to the one place I prayed never to go. All because I had to go and open my mouth. I could have found the things and just kept quiet, but no, I couldn't keep it contained.

But if I hadn't, I never would have found father's journal, but then again, I could have lived peacefully for the rest of my life.

I wanted to thrash, whip back at them, who carried me as if I were nothing; but my fire was out. It had taken too much weathering. I let something inside me die. I felt no anger, no betrayal, no sadness, I tried to build up some emotion, but it was prominently broken down. I felt like I was out of breath.

My head lolled back in the seat when the horse started trotting away; two Hawks sat, gripping my arms like I was some mysterious murderer. I wanted to tell them I wasn't going to spring up all of a sudden; I wasn't _that_ crazy. Then again, maybe I was. If I twitched my arm, their eyes shot to it, and glared at me. It didn't encourage me to move much.

How did this happen? I was trying to avoid the big problem, when I was tripped up by such a minuscule one; was being arrested not for defying what the school said, not for crossing The Wall, but for stealing a _dress_. Such a simple crime, it could have easily been avoided; I had been much too careless.

There was no possible way to avoid the Volturi; nobody could defy them.

I wanted to ask where we were going, but I knew I would get no answer. I could only guess one place.

I sat as still as possible, afraid to move. I never dreamed I would get arrested; I was supposed to be good. The one who never got in trouble, the innocent by stander, the one with a clean slate. Now, my future was shattered, and I was unable to pick up the pieces.

I wished nothing more but to blame this all on Edward, but I knew I had brought this on myself. I wanted to pin it all on him somehow, but I couldn't even fool _myself_.

The ride was the longest ride of my life, I wasn't used to being treated like a criminal, but I was quickly adapting to it. Nobody caring what you thought, nobody caring what you had to say. But when we finally did stop, I saw we were at a large building.

They grabbed me, and thrust me out of the buggy with so much force; I thought my shoulders would come out of their sockets. They still held onto me, and dragged me into the grayish building.

I knew it wasn't jail, although this building was intimidating, it wasn't nearly as menacing as jail would look, I was positive. It was too tame, too professional.

They set me down, not letting me go, but I got to walk now; my breathing grew shallow as we walked through a pristine white hallway; where could they possibly be taking me? Why wasn't I going to jail?

Upon entering a room decorated with electronic devices; it was huge, and was filled with many women sitting in front of monitors, watching.

"Why did she say to bring her here?" One of the Hawks whispered to the other, I listened intently, slightly happy that I wasn't the only one in the dark. The other just shrugged, I exhaled noisily.

"Who do we have here?" A tall, skinny woman with pointed cheek bones stepped over to where I was being held; I gulped, wanting to shrink into my cloak.

"She stole this dress, we were going to take her to The Institute for torture for a week," The Institute? Oh….the jail. Torture? "But our Head said to bring her here." The second one answered in a confused manor, offering me up like a dish. Perhaps that was why they were keeping such close watch on me.

She eyed me carefully, a confident smile plastered on her face; she leaned toward me, and scoured my eyes. Sweat began forming at the nape of my neck. After a moment of looking, she let out a short chuckle and closed her eyes.

"Two of our agents had a run in with her in Hollow Wood, she seemed suspicious, so they were going to follow her, but she disappeared before they could." She said coldly to the hawks behind me; then her eyes flickered back to mine. "Isn't that right, _Mary_?" She stressed my alias. I nodded, meekly.

"Yes ma'am." She seemed amused by this.

"You see ladies," She addressed the Hawks. "This is no ordinary thief. This is the notorious Isabella Swan." Her eyes bored into mine, calling me on my lie. "The girl who listened to the insane stories of the Crazies, and then disappeared before she could be captured." Although she was talking to her agents, she was glaring at me smugly the whole time. "Well done, Isabella, you eluded even our best agents." She gave me false praise.

It seemed I was famous here; or infamous was more accurate. It made me feel no better than before.

"Now, I'm curious, Isabella." She phrased, placing her hands haughtily on her hips. "Just how did you manage to stay hidden for so long? Though, your arrest was inevitable, I wonder how a mere teenage girl was able to stay away for such a period of time."

"Fate?" I replied smartly, wanting to do nothing more than annoy this woman and avoid the subject altogether, for I knew I would eventually crack if they investigated enough.

She looked taken aback, like she hadn't expected me to reply in such a way; now all the women in the room were watching us, like it was some show.

"Well, if you're really that clueless, I have no more use for you." Her false smile struck fear into my heart. "Take her to the Institute where she will live out the rest of her now numbered days."

My heart dropped into my stomach; although I knew this was coming, hearing the terrible words aloud, sealed my fate. I dropped my head in defeat as the two Hawks dragged me back roughly to the buggy.

I looked over my shoulder at the woman, she was beaming smugly at me as I was being taken to my death; a look of sweet victory covered her face, like she relished the thrill of the kill. Such a cruel woman deserved the Volturi.

Returning to the buggy, they took their guarding positions like before while the third Hawk began driving again; I just stared blankly ahead. I was too in a daze to notice anything.

The ride must have been hours, but to me, it felt like minutes. As if time sped up, eager to get to my doom.

I was exhausted, but I had refused to go to sleep the whole ride; but now I could feel my will power fading, I was going to pass out soon enough. Already moments of reality were being cut out into a dream; thoughts were being dragged along for too long, and soon enough, they started playing themselves out in my mind. The line between thoughts and dreams was slowly becoming less and less distinctive.

A building in the distance slowly became more and more visible. Only it wasn't a building; it was much too large for that. I didn't know what to call it; with tall grey walls, and menacing spikes all around it, it stood as a symbol for gloom and foreboding.

_This must be jail. _I thought passively, my head lolling back once more, before coming back up.

My heart pounded so hard it was all I could hear in my ears, I never believed I would end up here. In a place filled with so much pain and misery, it would kill me itself.

As I felt all of the blood drain from my face and out the soles of my feet, the breath of the Hawk to my right danced across my neck as she leaned down.

"Welcome home."

**So, our dear Bella is going to jail….I wonder who she'll meet there…**

**Review for the rest of the teaser:**

"_**Miss?" I whispered, although there was no need to; I nudged her shoulder, she mumbled incoherently before she rolled over to face me. Her eyes were empty.**_

_** "Yes?"**_

_** "I was just curious." I twiddled my thumbs once more. "It just doesn't make sense to me." **_

_** She closed her eyes before answering. "What doesn't make sense?" I took a deep breath before answering.**_

_** "That day, the day you were taken, it seemed like something inside you had finally let go. And, although it isn't my business, I was wondering if you would tell me what that was, if there was something." I finished, careful to read her reaction, a corner of her mouth turned up a fraction of an inch.**_


	18. Chapter 17

**You all have been wondering where our favorite character is Rosalie—did you honestly think I'd leave her out of this party? She will make her fashionably late entrance in a few chapters. You're also asking if Jasper will be nice to her….have faith, kids.**

**Chapter 17**

With staggering awareness, I inhaled sharply and my eyelids shot open; my eyes darted across the dimly lit room with a mix of shock and confusion. One minute, I had been staring at the jail for the first time, letting dread sweep through me, I had blinked, and appeared here.

My muscles were stiff, indicating I had been asleep; so strange, it felt like I had slept for quite awhile. A chilly dampness was seeping into my underside, I realized I was lying down; my body reacted slowly by lifting my torso off the ground. My fingers began to feel along the ground, it was uneven and made of stone. It felt wrong though; I was lying down, but my head and neck were slightly elevated, and they weren't as cold as the rest of my body. I propped myself on my elbows, and I felt movement under my head; I rolled my head back to look at what I was resting on.

A gasp ripped through my aching chest as I saw it was a woman, and my head had been on her lap; and not just any woman; the last woman I ever thought I would see again.

"Miss Garratt!" I exclaimed, feeling my face light up as she stared back at me with a small smile on her lips and her eyes dim.

"I see you're awake," She grinned her Miss Garratt grin, remembrance washed through me. "Hello Isabella."

In my excitement, I scrambled to my knees so I was sitting beside her; I couldn't take my eyes off of her, still in denial.

I was so elated; I never thought I'd see her again. It seemed like at any second she would evaporate, leaving me here. I suddenly felt like I wasn't alone in the world anymore.

I tried to scoot closer, but my ankle caught on something, and made a rattling sound.

I turned my head slowly, knowing what I would find. I saw a heavy, chain shackling my ankle to the wall. I let out a whimper in crushed spirits.

"You get used to it." She said somberly, glaring at it as I did.

For the first time, I had a chance to take in the room; if I squinted my eyes, I could see other women, but they were unresponsive and didn't react to our conversation. Their eyes were glassy and empty; I would have thought they were dead if I didn't see their chests move up and down.

Fear struck through me, was that how I would end up? Miss Garratt followed my gaze.

"They're already gone, lost in their own minds." Right on cue, a hysterical giggle laugh through one of them in the corner; I jumped, startled by it. But it hadn't sounded like a happy laugh, it sounded like an insane, lost laugh. It frightened me; I instinctively cringed into her side.

"Now young lady," She started to scolded. "Would you like to explain what you're doing here?" She asked hopelessly; I paused, tearing my eyes away from her gaze.

"I don't know, I guess I lost it. Kind of like you did…?" I admitted shamefully, she sighed empathetically.

"I didn't lose it Bella, I _found_ it." She whispered into the sky. "I don't regret it one bit, I'd rather die on my feet than live on my knees." A low gasped escaped me. What did she mean by that?

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing." She muttered, staring off; suddenly her eyes turned to me with sudden curiosity. "You know, I almost didn't recognize you. What did you do to your hair? I thought you took pride in it."

"I cut it." I answered simply, twiddling my thumbs.

"Why would you do that?"

I couldn't tell her. I didn't know if she would be happy, disappointed, shocked; it was too secretive. After seeing Alice's reaction, there was no way I could ruin this relationship too. Maddy's name brought back a fresh wave of hurt.

"It was necessary." I murmured, choking back the memory.

"Hm." She let her head rest against the back wall, and she closed her eyes. My eyes wandered around the bleak, damp room.

"How did you know to call me Bella?" I asked, it dawned on me that I'd never told her to. Had she overheard Alice and I?

She giggled a musical trill, except that the time in this place had taken its toll on her, so it sounded raspy and worn.

"Way back in the day, Isabella was quite a common name actually. And many nicknames were often derived from it, not just _Bella_." She explained; my eyebrows knit together.

My name had been common once? I was the only one in Hollow Wood who had that name.

"Really?" I asked, perking up.

"Yes, other nicknames were taken from it such as 'Izzy' or 'Isabel', or even 'Bell'." She said softly. "I wish I could have lived in that time."

"I wish I could have lived there too Miss Garratt; you know you were my favorite teacher right?" I felt the need to add the last part, though it seemed trivial now, pitted up against the circumstances.

"Not anymore I suppose after my display." She smiled to herself. "You know, when The Wall went up, I had to take back my maiden name." Sadness was laced in her voice, as if remembering it hurt her.

"Really?" I couldn't understand the intense melancholy in her voice, but I wished I could.

"Yes. They, being the Volturi, made the teachers take back our maiden names if we were married. I guess to break whatever last bond we held to our loved ones on the other side."

We talked about such things for a few more hours; without the school environment, she truly was easy to talk to. She was understanding, and I felt a certain kind of warmth I'd never felt before; something I'd craved my whole life but I hadn't known I lacked. Like I was finally on the same page with someone.

"That day," I started later on. "The day you were taken. It was the most…I don't even know how to describe it. Soon afterwards everyone forgot about it, but I couldn't. I've missed you." I disclosed, with a sad sigh, my head was once again in her lap, and she was stroking my hair in a tender, protective way.

Time passed. I wasn't quite positive how long though, could have been five minutes. Could have been five years. I was getting lost in our conversation; Miss Garratt said that she's able to keep track of time, because the Hawks bring in our scraps of food at a certain time.

Even later on I couldn't help but ask.

"What happens all day, here?" I asked, wondering what could possibly happen when you had eternity to spend in a place as wretched as this.

"You're living it." She let her hand rise pathetically and wave at the open space in front of us; I wasn't surprised. I didn't expect any special treatment besides the obvious.

"Oh."

"I know." There was a long pause, as I began tracing my finger across the wrought iron of the chain connected to my ankle.

"I knew you were different." She sighed breaking the silence, resting a hand on my knee. "I'm just sorry it led you here." '_Here'_ being the end of my life as I knew it.

My eyes trailed to her arms; long gashes that were red around their edges stretched up her forearm, big purplish bruises were sprinkled up her arm.

"What happened to your arms?" My words came out in a jumble of syllables, not being able to pronounce coherent words. A sad smile in her eyes, she replied.

"This is jail; they don't just leave us here to rot. They have their recreation. We're here on punishment, remember?" She groaned, gazing pathetically at her arms, and looking toward me apologetically.

I supposed she expected me to be worried about my own safety, knowing that my own punishment would soon come. I, however, was more concerned with her injuries. She wasn't an old woman, but she wasn't too young either.

I looked down, at the ground beneath her, it was stained dark; I gawked and leapt back on instinct. I had thought that was water. It was her blood; it stained the bottom of her dress.

"Oh…" I moaned, and she just stared at me with hopelessness in her eyes. It angered me that they could treat her like that, could treat anyone like that. With empty courage, I sat up straight.

"We'll get out of here, Miss, just hang in there." I put my arm around her shoulder and rubbed her freezing cold forearm, and rested my head on her shoulder.

"Your optimism is inspiring, honey, but I'm afraid that it's blind. Even you can see the end is upon us." She took my hand in hers and left them there. I set my eyes downcast and pressed my lips into a hard line.

I didn't say anything after that; for I knew, no matter how injured she was, no matter how much blood was lost, how much of her mind was gone, she spoke the bitter truth. It was plain to see she was slowly slipping along with the others, and I would eventually be in a vegetable state. This place truly was a hell, an infinite hell full of nothing but time.

The only thing left to do was wait. Rot in stifling emptiness. Rot, and wait without purpose except to pray for death.

Six hours. Twelve hours. A day—maybe two or three even. The minutes blended into days, for the only reason I knew so was because I experienced tiredness every so often. It was all irrelevant; for now I could see Miss Garratt's method for time keeping was flawed. For I tried to wait like she had to know the specific time they brought us food, and it seemed much too long to be merely twenty-four hours. We ate once a day. Or so I guessed.

They must have been aware of our attempt at time-keeping, for they would go a day without giving us food—or was it a day? Was it merely an hour? I wasn't sure.

Miss Garratt tried to keep the madness at bay by starting up meaningless conversations with me; I tried to play along for a while, but I stopped for it seemed hopeless.

I cried; a lot. Cried for many reasons, one being sent here. Yes, that was an enormous one; but I also sobbed for Alice, and how I'd lost my best friend, and by the simple betrayal of the woman in the shop. Oh how I'd been so easily tripped up by a pebble after leaping over mountains.

But I didn't cry for the blatantly obvious, for I had no more tears for him; I couldn't find a place for him this moment, for I had so many other things to be sorry for. Anything else would be too much. Now, my tears had to be rationed, each terrible situation would receive equal amounts of pain and sorrow. He would receive no special treatment.

All through this, Miss Garratt just held me by her side, in an affectionate way. Not uttering one word; I supposed that was a good thing.

I'd never felt so close to the woman I'd only seen as a teacher before; even when I had expressed my admiration, I never truly felt such a connection. I had no idea what I would have done without her.

When we were sleeping, the Hawks would clean our living space; an embarrassing aspect. But that's when I noticed. Noticed some of the women no longer let out cries of laughter; then they would take the bodies out.

I knew then, that I had been witnessing deaths for however long I'd been in here; and I hadn't realized it. I wanted to be sick, I wanted to throw up, but I couldn't; I had no more energy for such a thing.

Time slipped seamlessly into itself, stretching out as far as the eye could see; the routine being set in stone by the hawks that were to watch us.

But something had been bothering me for quite awhile; Miss Garratt had been as stable as can be for as long as I could remember. What had caused her to snap that day? I recalled nothing that could have set her off…that's what I had spent my time wondering about. Why she decided to stop holding back, and lose control. Did it have something to do with that calendar?

"Miss?" I whispered, although there was no need to; I nudged her shoulder, she mumbled incoherently before she rolled over to face me. Her eyes were empty.

"Yes?"

"I was just curious." I twiddled my thumbs once more. "It just doesn't make sense to me."

She closed her eyes before answering. "What doesn't make sense?" I took a deep breath before answering.

"That day, the day you were taken, it seemed like something inside you had finally let go. And, although it isn't my business, I was wondering if you would tell me what that was, if there was something." I finished, careful to read her reaction, a corner of her mouth turned up a fraction of an inch.

"Ah Bella," Her hand stroked my mine. "Dear, sweet, cautious Bella. You always worried if you would get a backlash from your actions." Her hand clutched my own. I didn't register what she had said, although it was probably true, that wasn't my focus. I was careful to ask again, afraid if asking once more would upset her.

"Um…"

"To answer your question," She cut me off, obviously knowing what I was going to say. "Yes, something did cause me to snap. But it was something you would not be able to comprehend."

I gasped, intrigued. "Oh, please tell me!" I begged, ready to beg for hours on end (I had plenty of time).

"It was my son." She sighed; I automatically froze at the mention of the opposite sex. "His birthday had been on that day. Before, on his birthdays, I'd been able to hold off the pain by not coming to school. But the head of the school had noticed this pattern and ordered I worked. I thought I could do it, but I just couldn't. So it resulted in what you saw."

The only thing I could hear was the sound of blood pulsing in my ears; yet my conscious mind wasn't aware of why yet. A reflexive tightening in my stomach began, and my hand clamped down on top of it.

Another memory ran toward me at lightening speeds, but it was a memory that had never been lost in the first place.

"'_Cool, so Edward knew about you? When did he find you?' Emmett looked with happy eyes._

_ 'He's been very nice. And about three days ago.'_

_ 'I would expect so, and that's kinda funny.'_

'_Why?' I answered in a puzzled way._

'_More ironic than funny really, that's the day after his birthday.'_"

Even in the low light, I tried to find his features in her.

Her green eyes shone, like a mirror of him. Her hair was as bronze as his.

"I love my boy so much." She breathed. "You couldn't comprehend it for you have never met a man, I'm sorry you have been deprived of that experience…"

_Please, please, don't let it be true_. I silently begged.

"… I love my Edward more than life itself."

The very dark room began to spin precariously, and I lost my balance. I fell back from my sitting position, and hit the chilly floor with an unceremonious thud.

**Lots of you saw this coming. In fact, pretty much all of you saw this coming. **

**Anywho, this chapter is short, so what does that mean? *readers scream "An Epically Long and Dramatic Chapter is up next!"*. That's right, kids. **

**Review for the rest of the teaser:**

"_**Ma'am?" I called out the front window to the driver, she didn't respond. "Where are you taking me?" She didn't even bother turning around. "Hey, lady!" I called, abandoning any attempt at politeness. "Where are you taking me?" I screeched. She whipped around, her eyes on fire.**_

"_**You are so lucky you are in the position you're in now or I would strangle you right here and now for such utter disrespect!" She scolded the desire to kill in her eyes.**_

"_**What is my position?" I yelled back, pressing my face to the glass; her face hardened even further and she turned back around.**_


	19. Chapter 18

**There is much to say in this author note, so pay attention:**

**-Much to my elation, and giddiness, I discovered that over half of you didn't predict that Miss Garratt equals Esme. Unfortunately my ego swelled to become disproportionate to my writing skills. **

**-Also, if you don't receive a teaser, is because it probably happened during the day, at which point, I have no access to the computer, and by the time I found said review I was in the process of the posting the next chapter. Why waste time finishing the teaser when you can just have the whole chapter five seconds later?**

**-ALSO about the teaser, if you noticed the one you received was extremely short. I didn't want to give away what defines this entire chapter.**

**-Many of you have asked just how, if, Bella escapes from jail. Does she break out? Does Edward miraculously show up on the Women's side and whisk her away into the sunset? Very intriguing and out of this world answers I received—and much more to my elation, not a single one of them was right.**

**Shocked you were wrong? Are you curious to find out what the answer really is? Then just let your eyes drifts below…**

**Chapter 18**

"I told you Miss Garratt, I'm fine." I soothed her as she was stroking my arm worriedly; I had blacked out for a minute or two when I found out about him.

"It's probably because you haven't been getting your nutrients; you're still just an adolescent after all." She reasoned to herself, I was so relieved; she was making up my excuse for me. I just kept nodding.

"My body will adjust." The truth was my body had already adjusted to the lack of food from being on the other side; for once, I realized I could see my rib cage. I was so much sallower than before.

Now that I knew that Miss Garratt was the mother of the man whom I fell in love with, it made complete sense physically. I could see Edward in her so much now, it hurt. I supposed my mind was so preoccupied on surviving on the other side to even notice it.

Their eyes were the same shade of emerald; her hair was withered and longer, but I could still see it her; that in her younger days it was long, shiny and bright copper.

I also saw some traits in her I saw in him that weren't physical; she took care of me in when I was incapacitated, and I have also grown to care for her, but in a different way. What was with this gene pool that drew me so?

But now, whenever I looked at her, I saw him as well; my vision was now unintentionally tainted by him as well. It was complicated, whenever I saw her, I wanted to look away and never look back; but another part wanted to stare at her and never look away.

I really wanted to get off the subject of Edward, but it was like opening the gates holding back flood water with her. Once she started talking about him, she couldn't stop.

"He was the cutest baby, chubby, very chubby." I wanted to laugh at her reminiscing, but I also wanted to crawl under a rock and die or stuff her mouth full of cotton, just so I wouldn't have to hear it. All I heard was 'Edward this' and 'Edward that' for such a long time.

She talked about nothing but Edward for hours on end, I found after a while I was able to tune her out by staying in the realm between sleep and awareness; finally I couldn't take it. I snored obnoxiously, hoping she'd stop. And she did. I felt guilty for deceiving her, but I just couldn't handle it.

She never spoke of him again, even when I was awake.

But I became worried. Over time I began to notice something.

She spoke less often of anything, not just Edward, and I often found it harder to get her attention, as if she were drifting away. She was starting to resemble the women who were already gone; I wanted to drag her back from this, but I felt powerless. Her eyes became glassier, and her words made less and less sense.

Soon it became less and less like her taking care of me, but more me taking care of her; and that frightened me.

I kept trying to shake her to get her attention; soon, she stopped eating her food. Or she stopped trying to get it. So I would make sure she got some, last time I had to all but stuff it down her throat. Anything to keep her alive.

This went on for an immeasurable amount of time; and I began to worry about my own mental status. I would soon become like them; I would give my life to avoid it. I didn't want to experience the feeling of slipping away into oblivion; to die without dignity.

The rhythm of my new life was set, it was inescapable. Every time the latch in the high ceiling would open, I would hear the squish of food hit the floor in front of me. Then it would close.

Except for a few times; those few horrible times.

One would come down, with a large blade or something and would make yet another slash on Miss Garratt's arms. Slowly. I would always cover my ears for her screams. After a while, I didn't have to, she grew unresponsive to the pain.

Eventually she made a few slashes across my forearm; I screamed like I'd never screamed before. I felt it was deep; and Miss Garratt could only turn her head and look apologetically at me.

I ran my fingertips over one of the open gashes, clenching my teeth at the burning and throbbing. They were going to do it slowly. One at a time, until I died.

I was currently laying my head against the wall, trying to drift into sleep when I heard the latch above open up. I automatically grew still and cringed.

This was it; they were going to do it again. The sound of the extremely long ladder hit the floor; I curled up into a ball and began to shake. Miss Garratt only rested her hand on my shoulder comfortingly, knowing she could do nothing.

I waited for the terrible pain I knew would come, but I only heard footsteps. My heart thudded against my rib cage, as if trying to escape; only the sound of chains rattling hit my ears.

I peeked up curiously; this was out of routine. I silently relished the break of monotony. I thrived on the change. A Hawk was toying with the chain against my ankle; then she did something I never thought would be done.

She unlatched the chain against my ankle.

I was far past shocked; I was speechless, and I didn't dare move. Perhaps she wanted to hurt me in a way where I had to be standing? I hadn't stood up in so long… I've surely lost some muscle mass. Would I be able to stand?

She clutched me roughly by the arm and yanked me to my feet; I threw a glance to a very surprised Miss Garratt.

"Come on." The Hawk grumbled spitefully, with resent in her voice. I wondered why; what grudge could she hold against me?

"Where are you taking me?" I asked boldly, unable to restrain it; Miss Garratt hissed in disapproval.

She turned around, her eyes blazing. "Out."

I threw my glance back to Miss Garratt. I was leaving this god-forsaken room. _I_ was leaving; but Miss Garratt wasn't. I should be able to turn around and leap out of here happily, ready to do anything to never go back; but something held me back. Someone.

Miss Garratt had helped me when I was at my lowest; I couldn't leave her. It would kill me.

"I'm not going. Not without her." I told the Hawk in an unfamiliarly stern voice I found; the Hawk stopped. Her shoulder rose up and down like she was chuckling.

"You have no choice." With one more sharp tug, she grabbed me by the waist and started climbing the fearfully high ladder. "If you squirm or fight back I _will_ drop you. That's a promise." She growled, I gulped, prepared to be as still as possible.

Her strength was great, for she was able to lift us both up the ladder; but I was more concerned for the woman who would be left behind. Miss Garratt just stared up at me, tears rolled down my cheeks and I gazed at her. Her life would be hell, whatever was left of it. She was almost dead already.

Despite this, her lips curled up into a weak smile at me. She had nothing to smile for; why was she smiling? Because of me? Or had she finally lost it? Either way, I felt the warmth of tears rolling down my cheeks.

As we neared toward the light radiating from the hole in the ceiling, I reached my hand out meekly toward her; she reached hers out as well.

As the Hawk lifted me up through the hole, I saw Miss Garratt close her eyes and she sank back into a catatonic state. My heart broke. She wasn't going to survive much longer.

I was suddenly yanked upward, to my feet. I had to cover my eyes from the light; the room was all pure white, and brightly lit. My eyes stung from the sudden light. I had recently been immersed in nothing but blackness. The contrast was immense.

As soon as I was on my feet, hand cuffs were clamped to wrists and two hawks came to flank my sides; we started walking down an endless looking corridor.

"Where are we going?" I asked every so often; annoyance and restrain shown in their eyes, but made no move to stop me; I wondered what was stopping them now.

We came to a side door in the hallway; they pushed me through it. There was an enormous tub with various soaps, but they looked like they had been thrown together at the last moment, as if such things were to never exist here.

They ordered me to undress; I was very suspicious, but I didn't object. After I had done what they ordered me to, they all but drowned me in the bathtub. The water was cold; through the icy pain, I let myself remember my showers on the other side and how much they resembled each others. They roughly washed me with different liquid and foams.

I was embarrassed at first, but then I realized just how much they despised this. I grew ashamed.

After they had run me up and down with fizzy soaps; they put me in a weird slip dress and trotted me back in the hall.

The Hawk to my left glowered at me. "You have been kissed by an angel. Otherwise the only way out of that room is death." They were obviously going against protocol.

We walked for what seemed to be an eternity, before we got to a door. An innocent enough looking door; a bright, white door.

One of them opened it, and sunlight spilled across my body for the first time in so long; I instinctively urged toward it. They held me back with brute force. My eyes adjusted and I saw a big heavy carriage with the intricate symbol that had also been tattooed into Edward's arm.

After they took the hand cuffs off me they shoved me forward and pushed me into the open carriage. It was magnificent. Was this a mistake?

The interior was elaborately designed, with black and red velvet, silk, and satin. It look fit for someone rich; although the inside was beautiful, I discovered that it had no handles to open the doors. I was trapped either way.

In front of me lay a tray of some of the most delicious looking food I had ever seen. I feared they might be trying to poison me. But if they wanted to kill me, they could just do it with a knife, a sword, anything. Why were they going to such great lengths to poison me?

I had never been so confused in my entire life; wasn't I just rotting in a dungeon on punishment not too long ago? What happened to move me up so much?

The Hawk driving willed the horse to go forward, and we were on the move; I should have been elated to be leaving, but suspicion sank into my stomach.

Eventually I got around to eating the food in front of me; it was wonderful. My taste buds had never been treated so much; and I wasn't passing out. Or throwing up. Or dying. So I figured it was okay. I finished it all in at least five minutes.

A glass of a strange colored liquid lay in front of me, and a glass of water stood next to it; I decided to take a taste. It was a deep shade of red in color, when I brought it up to my mouth; the smell of it sent me reeling. The taste was so awful; I finished the whole glass of water just to wash away the taste. Now, that must have been the poison; it was terrible!

Afterward I had a strange sweet aftertaste in my mouth, and I realized it must have been some type of wine; I'd never had it before. I wasn't allowed to. Why would they think I'd want it? I left it alone after that.

We had ridden for hours, I saw the sun go from one side of the sky to the other; I was so happy to be free of that place. I kept rubbing my ankle gingerly, elated to be free of the shackle. I wanted to be able to not question the good things I was receiving, but I couldn't help the feeling in my gut that something was wrong.

Finally I had gathered enough to courage to ask again where we were going.

"Ma'am?" I called out the front window to the driver, she didn't respond. "Where are you taking me?" She didn't even bother turning around. "Hey, lady!" I called, abandoning any attempt at politeness. "Where are you taking me?" I screeched. She whipped around, her eyes on fire.

"You are so lucky you are in the position you're in now or I would strangle you right here and now for such utter disrespect!" She scolded the desire to kill in her eyes.

"What _is_ my position?" I yelled back, pressing my face to the glass; her face hardened even further and she turned back around.

"You have been chosen as a wife for a new member of the Core. You should be eternally grateful to whoever chose you. Though I don't know why anyone would choose the likes of _you_ for a wife, aside from your obvious lacking in looks, your attitude is rotten." She spat.

I fell back into my seat. Chosen as a wife.

My father's journal had mentioned that. I gazed up at the ceiling; I was to be married to a stranger. But why was_ I_ picked? Who would pick _me_? Was this why_ I_ was getting all the special treatment?

When I was little I had always dreamed I would marry a man, one I loved, although I knew it would never happen. I never wanted it like this; I hadn't wished to be forced. I suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe, my heart was being constricted, my breathing grew shallow.

What did that mean? What would come from the position? I remembered that my father had said that the purpose was to…create an heir.

I kicked my legs against the seemingly fragile glass of the windows, and screamed at the top of my lungs. But the windows refused to break, and I continued to thrash anyway. Anything to escape!

"Hey!" She pounded her fist against the glass. "You know, I can always tell them you died in The Hole. Watch yourself girl." She growled and twisted back around. I stopped thrashing, but I continued to shiver.

What would it be like? Was there any way I could stop it? Oh, I dearly wished there was. Why was I being chosen as a wife? I was positive I wasn't desirable, what with my criminal record, and I certainly wasn't the most gorgeous in the colonies by any standard. Why me?

Questions buzzed in my head the whole rest of the way, and the tears streamed continuously down my cheek; but my thoughts occasionally strayed away from my impending destiny. To the poor woman, the mother of the man who had affected me too much than I should have allowed, the woman who had kept me sane at the expense of her own. My heart ached for her, she was still in that horrid place; doing nothing but nothing.

The only way out of there was death anyway, so I would never see her again. I pressed my fingers mournfully to the glass of the window, wishing to escape. To get back to that relative freedom I'd lived my whole life. When in truth, I never really _was_ free.

The driver and I didn't spark up anymore rousing conversations. I was too lost inside myself to even bother. I just gazed out the tinted windows as we neared closer to society; we drove straight through the heart of some unknown colony, and the women all around acted as if nothing were out of the ordinary, these windows were so dark, they wouldn't have been able to see me anyway.

I yearned to be just another face in the crowd, nobody special, not a criminal, not a wife, just a girl.

We rode until I could see The Wall in the distance, my heart clenched and my stomach flipped; we got even closer, and I could it was becoming less populated with citizens, and more with Hawks. It was heavily guarded, and the driver to give identification just to let us pass the huge front gate.

This place was the focal point of my phobias and fear of hawks and the Volturi. I curled up in the carriage, not wanting to leave now that I saw I would be released into a sea of the ones I feared so greatly. They all walked around, weapons ready, and deadly; but we didn't stop.

Continuing, she rode us to The Wall itself; it appeared as if we were going to crash into it. I closed my eyes, for she made no move to stop.

We didn't crash, we didn't stop; we merely slowed; opening my eyes I saw that there was a gaping arch going straight through The Wall, like under a bridge. My jaw dropped; I never thought they would consciously let women cross.

Women (well Hawks) had been crossing this whole time, under our noses! My eyes were like disks; there was a way to cross that was made on purpose (well it made sense, how else would they get wives across?).

My whole life I was convinced there was absolutely no way to cross. Everything I'd ever known had been questioned since a few weeks ago. The basis of everything I was sure of, was being tested, and being proven false.

Many Hawks guarded this passageway to the other side, and we had to wait twenty minutes before they let us pass.

Going under The Wall once more, I felt a change within me, like I was settling into another version of myself. The person I had been on the other side before. I never thought I'd be back here again; I couldn't decipher if this emotion was euphony or devastation.

A huge castle-like building glimmered behind the looming trees, the trees that were just as strangled as the ones on my own side, not the free ones I'd seen. The place was enormous in itself, fit for royalty; it was the biggest structure I'd ever seen, second to The Wall. It was complex in design, and ostentatious to say the least; it was beautiful, but terrifying.

We reached another gate, and we were admitted once more; I gulped as the carriage finally came to a halt.

The door was ripped open by Hawks; only they weren't Hawks I'd known. They were men, though they were exactly the same as the ones I'd known. Cold in the face, cruel, and uncaring.

I shrank back and they grabbed me by my forearms; I hissed in pain as they grabbed my arm with the gashes on it, though they had started to heal, they were almost scabbed over. I was yanked out, and the second I was out, the carriage rode away again.

With my hands behind my back, I was walked into the castle, like an ornament; nobody stopped to stare, as if this sort of thing was to be expected.

Absolute burning loathing built up inside me like a cup catching rain, and I was soon drowning in it. I wanted to push them away and run, but I was to be still. My teeth clenched and I hung my head, for I did not want to look anyone in the eye.

I was embarrassed to be seen; being on this side was strange. But I only felt hate for these people.

The Hawk to my right looked down upon me with his penetrating gaze, as if he could find out everything about a person by turning them to jelly by his stare.

"This must be some mistake," He was talking to the Hawk to my left, but he was looking at me. "Surely there are better women out there than her." He spat, I gulped, afraid to look away as he insulted me. I knew he was telling the truth, for I held the same question.

The one to my left just laughed and we kept walking; I wondered where we were going for the millionth time. But I didn't dare wonder aloud; for that had gotten me nowhere.

As we continued, I started to see women; beautifully dressed, and glowing, they stood talking quietly to each other. Their smiles radiated the utmost happiness and joy; I couldn't stop staring. Apparently, the hawk with the deadly gaze noticed.

"That's what a wife is _supposed_ to look like." He half whispered in my ear.

_Fine! _I wanted to tell them, _take me back then!_

_Don't upset them…_ The voice reappeared.

_Oh_, I shouted facetiously in my head, _I'm so glad you decided to come back! You were gone so long, I almost forgot about you. And we can't have that can we?_ I spat internally.

_Everything was going perfectly, I was not needed. _

_By who's definition of perfect? And you're not needed now either. _Perfectly? How could it possibly say it was going _perfectly_?

_You ordered me away_. It replied coolly.

_Oh yeah, like that's ever stopped you before_. My snarl was more menacing in my head than I sure it would have been in real life.

It didn't reply after that, but it was always present; I tried to ignore it, I had more pressing matters at hand. Like my fluctuating marital status.

We came to a room, it was (once again), luxurious inside, and there was no way out. There was a large window, the carpet was bright white and high, there was a big puffy bed against the wall. A vanity sat against the opposite wall, covered with makeup I never even knew existed; there was a large chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The walls were, as expected, off white. There was another door to a bathroom at the end of the room.

"Clean yourself some more and put on the dress on the bed." He said before shoving me roughly into the room and locking the door behind them; turning around I saw the door had no interior handle. I could only guess the windows weren't breakable.

On the bed, I discovered one of the most beautiful dresses I'd ever seen; it was deep ocean blue, had long sleeves, and the neckline was modest. I knew it would look great even before I put it on. But I wished I didn't have to, it was obviously to look good for whoever chose me; that part still confused me to the edges of sanity. In the bathroom, I saw many soaps and shampoos in the claw footed bath tub; I knew why I was receiving this treatment, I wanted to deny it. But truthfully I needed it more than anything after spending who knows how long in that hole. Even after the Hawks had cleaned me, it was just to get me halfway decent, not the epitome of clean by any standards.

The bath was much different than the shower I had gotten used to, the water was warm and it had bubbles and Rose petals. Afterward, my skin was softer than it had ever been; I should have enjoyed it, any other time, I would have. Just not under these circumstances.

I put on the dress, but I didn't bother looking in the mirror, how it looked on me was hardly an issue.

Now, I just sat on the bed, contemplating.

How could I get out of this? I certainly couldn't escape, that was out of the question. What if he changed his mind? They wouldn't let me go even then, I'd seen much too much. Perhaps this place and The Hole had something common; maybe there was only one way out.

I banished the thought and flopped back on the bed and covered face with my hands; there was no way out.

The door was thrown open, and I shot up into a sitting position with a sharp intake of breath. A few Hawks came in, and one actually held out their hand so I could place it in his, as if I had a choice. The gesture was laughable; I placed it in his and we all walked out. I felt like I could finally walk with some dignity. A very, very little amount of dignity.

"Where are we going?" I asked timidly, peeking up at the man to my side. He didn't answer, and soon I saw why.

Rounding a corner, what I saw made me want to stop dead in my tracks, it made me want to turn around and run faster than the wind, it made me want to evaporate into thin air.

Edward stood leaning against the wall wearing black; not like the Hawks, but more formal. He wasn't even looking yet, for he was glancing in another direction.

My heart told me to shut my eyes and turn my head down, but I was stuck; with my head up and my eyes wider than a doe's, I was faced with meeting Edward's gaze for the first time since I found out who he really was.

His head turned to my direction and his eyes locked with my own; his widened in surprise like mine were. The entire world around us paled, and all I could see was his green eyes. I wanted to rip my eyes away from him and look elsewhere, but when I looked at him, all I could see was all the lies he told, and how much I had cared.

My mouth hung open; what was he doing here? Shouldn't he be home or—

"Meet your fiancée."

**Dun…dun...Dun! Yeah, you all probably saw that coming too… or maybe you didn't. In which case I'd be ecstatic.**

**Review for the rest of the teaser:**

"_**I know what your mom would say," I started, getting up the nerve to continue. "In fact I know exactly what she would say if she were here. If she could see you, so tainted."**_

_** "You have no clue what you're saying." He sounded truly hurt, and angry; I knew I shouldn't have cared, but a fresh wave of guilt engulfed me.**_

_** "I know I'm just a kid to you, but I know precisely what I'm saying." **_

_** "How? How could you possibly understand?" He growled. **_


	20. Chapter 19

**So most of you did see that one coming, but that wasn't really supposed to leave you guessing or anything, it was pretty obvious.**

**Again I combined two chapters to speed things along.**

**Chapter 19**

My eyes were so wide I was afraid they' pop out. _He_ did this? He sent for me? I was to marry him?

He just kept looking at me. His gaze unchanged by my clearly shocked and disgusted one. I knew he had lied, but I never imagined he'd be capable of this.

"Stop being so rude, and show some respect." The Hawk behind me growled in my ear, but I didn't hear it. I was busy glaring Edward down.

It was beyond me how he could do this. I supposed he was a better actor than I gave him credit for. But why would he want me? I was merely someone he had to cure before he turned me in so he could get his oh so precious position, I wasn't this important in the least.

The Hawks behind me pushed me harder, and I had to tear my eyes away to catch myself; now I was standing by myself. Caught between a demon and a rock; the question was, which was which? They obviously expected me to walk to him, but my feet were rooted the ground on which they stood.

I heard a growl of discontent behind me; Edward's eyes went over my head to the men behind me. He pushed himself off the wall and toward me.

"I'll take it from here." He told them, and nodded, in an attempt to dismiss them.

"We have to stay with you at all times." One of them responded robotically; Edward sighed in frustration.

"Can you do it at a distance?"

"Yes sir."

Edward made a motion with his hand as if he were going to place it on my back, but he just kept it hovering over my spine; I was a little grateful for that. The Hawks kept about a ten foot distance, as he led me down the corridor. I despised the closeness of our bodies.

"So, you're '_sir'_ now." I snarked in a low voice, trying to keep quiet so the Hawks wouldn't hear. "This is a new low, Edward." I muttered, not looking at him.

We were both looking straight ahead, making sure to show we weren't having a conversation worth listening to.

"It's not what you think." He said coolly, glancing at anyone and everyone who looked our way.

"Lots of things weren't what I thought." It felt good to get the chance to tell him this; a small part of me was getting a form of relief.

"This was the only way I could talk to you." He breathed. He sent for me, to _talk_?

"And what happens when you're done talking? Pretty drastic measures to _talk_." I glanced over my shoulder at the Hawks that were trying to listen, but kept their distance as promised.

"I haven't worked that part out yet." He breathed uneasily.

"You like to abuse your position a lot don't you?" My voice dropped an octave. "Why would you need to talk to me anyway? You were just going to turn me over in the end."

"Look, I wasn't sure what I was going to do."

"_Sure_." I growled, wanting to throw my hands up; he was trying to feed me more lies.

"Just listen for a second _please_." He answered quickly, before throwing a glance over his shoulder. "I was going to tell you eventually."

"You mean when you turned me in?" I replied. "Even if I _were_ to excuse the fact that you're a member of the Volturi, it hurts that you strung me along so long. You said I could live there, why would you let me get my hopes up like that? Why would you take it that far? Why would you go so far to delude me?"

"I didn't know what to do; I wanted you to stay, but then again you couldn't."

"Then why did you say yes?" I replied in disbelief.

"I don't know." He whispered heatedly, stealing a fleeting look at me. We kept walking, but in silence for a while, before I spoke again.

"I have to hand it to you, Edward." My voice cracked and I had to bite my lip. "You really have a knack for this two-faced thing. You know for a while there I thought you really had a soul." He tripped up. I paused, without looking, until he continued to walk, but at a more struggled pace.

"That wasn't an act." He replied shakily.

"What _else_ did you lie about? Is your real name even Edward?" My eyes began stinging, but I bit them back.

"I didn't lie about everything—"

"But you lied."

"Yes, but—"

"But, _what_?"

"I only lied to keep you in the dark, and my name really _is_ Edward…" He added unnecessarily.

"Is that the only thing that are true?" I said darkly, though it hurt inside. He didn't reply; I had hit the nail on the head. "What else did you lie about?" I asked, my stomach clenching and unclenching.

"You'll hate me."

"I already hate you."

He let out a trembling breath, "It's my age."

"…How old are you?" I asked suspiciously. He didn't meet my gaze.

"Seventeen."

I gulped, "How long have you been seventeen?" I asked, assuming his age was part of his act.

He sighed. "A while." I looked at him incredulously and he continued. "I've been telling people I was seventeen ever since I was fifteen. It's part of the assigned alias."

I bit back tears. "How old are you really?"

He didn't meet my gaze. "Twenty-four."

My feet got tangled up in each other and I went flying onto the ground. I hit it hard; I was vaguely aware of Edward kneeling down to help me up. My stomach lurched, and I truly feared I would throw up.

Twenty –four. So much older; seven _years_ older. He was seven when I was born; he hit puberty when I was learning my alphabet.

He took hold of me, to help me up but I jerked away from with a hiss.

"Don't touch me!" I growled, almost forgetting to whisper. Ugh, _twenty_-_four!_

I got to my feet and smoothed out my hair, trying to regain composure, unsuccessfully.

"Wow," I exhaled. "That's a big lie." I snarled in disgust.

"I'm sorry." He sounded genuine. "We have to lie about ourselves, except our name. Too many aliases get too confusing." He finished.

"It sounds like you belong here." To anyone else, it would have sounded like a compliment, but it was really a dirty insult. "Why would you do this anyway? What would your _mom_ say?" I struck a nerve with him by using the personal 'mom' instead of 'mother' like he was used to me saying.

He stopped dead in his tracks for a second, staring at me with shock and hurt evident in his eyes; I suddenly felt guilty. But why did I feel guilty? What he did was so much worse.

"_What_?" He choked out. And like that, the Edward I'd known was back. I could see him out in the open now; I had pierced the mask.

One of the Hawks cleared their throats, Edward kept walking, and I followed suit.

"I know what your mom would say," I started, getting up the nerve to continue. "In fact I know exactly what she would say if she were here. If she could see you, so tainted."

"You have no clue what you're saying." He sounded truly hurt, and angry; I knew I shouldn't have cared, but a fresh wave of guilt engulfed me.

"I know I'm just a kid to you, but I know precisely what I'm saying."

"How? How could you _possibly_ understand?" He growled.

"I knew her. I knew her _personally_." I didn't turn to see his face. "For years she was my teacher; then one day, your birthday to be exact, she snapped. She couldn't take the choking anymore. And she got sent to jail. And, yes, jail is every bit as terrifying as I told you." I still didn't move to see his face, but I heard a small choking sound.

"It's not possible."

"I think we've breached the boundary of _impossible_ more than once. I got my memory back by the way." I muttered as an aside.

"After she snapped, I did too. I found this necklace and I lashed back as well. She inspired me; but my mother didn't take too well to that. So, disoriented with a head wound my mother caused me, I came to this side through that hole." I let out, the words coming out in streams.

I brought my eyes to watch him finally; he was staring straight ahead, but his emotionless mask was cracked, it was clear my words were crushing him. He needed to know this, but I could see he was breaking inside. His eyes were filled with pain and longing.

"I got caught on the other side when I ran away after I found out— I got sent to jail. I met her there." My voice raised a few octaves; the inevitable tears were boiling to the surface. "Do you know what she said?" I bit my lip.

"What?" He asked softly, his voice just as shaky as my own.

"She broke _because_ it was your birthday… and Edward?" I paused before I continued; I wanted to make sure I had eye contact. We locked eyes. "She loves you and misses you more than anything in the world."

Edward was good at hiding emotion, although his eyes were red, he did not cry. I could tell he was trying not to. I hoped he was in pain, he was bringing this on himself; but a small twinge kept throbbing in the back of my head and at the bottom of my heart.

I threw all this at him, trying to pierce him even further; he deserved it after all. I could see it was working.

"After that she couldn't stop talking about you. But when I left, she was going slipping away like the others, losing her mind. I didn't want to leave her; she can't get food by herself anymore. I had to put it up to her mouth in order for her to eat it." This was hard for me talk about, but I pushed.

I covered my mouth with my hand, putting my loathing and hate on the backburner to feel the sadness and guilt I had from the absence of Miss Garratt.

"So yes, I think I know what I'm talking about." I finished with a sting of venom in my voice.

He stayed quiet and composed; but he was impacted, the mask of calm was just barely stretched long enough to cover up his emotions. I could see it was cracking a little more each second.

"Why would you torment me like this?" He said, his voice trembling a bit.

I was taken aback. Even though this was the exact thing I was trying to resurrect. The words weren't his, he usually had a playful exterior, but this was raw; raw and full of pure hurt. I was thinking maybe I'd taken it too far, but I pushed it back at him.

"The same way you did to me." I replied simply trying to not let the guilt leak into my voice. "Plus, I thought you needed to know what you were doing. The very people you live by are the very same ones slowly killing the one you love the most; think about it." I had thought explaining it like this would relief my remorse and make me feel just a miniscule amount better; it did not.

"I'm not sorry." He said calmly, staring ahead, despite the grilling I just gave.

"For what?" How could he _not_ be sorry?

"I _am_ sorry for lying; but I'm not sorry for sending for you. For one thing, you were in jail anyway, second I needed to talk to you, and three I'm glad you told me about her." He closed his eyes and looked over his shoulder at the Hawks behind us; he was also good at changing the subject faster than the speed of light.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I'm sorry, that you're not sorry." I said coldly. "I'd rather be back in The Hole than be here. I'd rather be _dead_." I spat; my heart pounded with adrenaline as the words came flooding out.

"I'm glad you're not dead." Was all he said back; I had nothing to say to that.

"I'm not marrying you." I added suddenly, making sure he got that loud and clear. I thought about it, "Not on my own free will." I obviously had no say in the matter.

"I know." He said, solemnly.

We came to a set of double doors; large and heavy they stood as a symbol of fear, I could only imagine what was on the other side, for a moment, I almost forgot Edward's presence.

Edward pushed both of them open, and a large, open room was revealed; the walls were stone, and the only furnishings were three thrones and a few chairs to their left and right, making up the Core's seats. One, however, was empty.

This was evidently the Core.

I wanted to shrink back, a strange jittery feeling washed over me the second I stepped into the room; the aura felt wrong. Like I'd just stepped into a warzone; like I was in enemy territory.

Edward then placed his hand firmly on my waist. I wanted to pull away, and slap him until he passed out, but I saw he was staring straight at the men in the three thrones, watching their reaction. I knew if I were to do something that looked out of the ordinary, I would come under suspicion. He saw that too.

"Hello Aro, Caius, and Marcus." Edward greeted, bending to the floor to bow; I stood awkwardly.

Was I to bow as well? What was I to do? I wasn't familiar with the customs here; I just rocked back and forth on my heels and stared off into space.

Edward tugged on my wrist urgently as an indication to bow; and I hit the floor too, wanting to stay safely off the menacing looking men's hit list. No matter how much I despised it, I lowered my head as well. I wanted to spit on the shiny, reflective floor.

"No need for such formality, you will soon take this seat." The man in the middle throne said in a voice that told me he was merely saying that for show, and that he clearly expected every ounce of submissiveness he was receiving.

Edward rose, jerking the back on my dress upward in a quick motion saying I should stand too; as soon as I came up he whispered in my ear, "Don't look him in the eye, keep your head down, and stand behind me." I obeyed despite my desire not to. He was training me as we went along, on what to do. A part of me was grateful, but that part was overshadowed by the revulsion I held.

"So," The man started, I felt his probing eyes on me. "This is the one you have chosen?" I could hear in his voice he wasn't at all impressed despite his cheery demeanor, as no one else was.

"Yes." Edward replied shortly, I wanted to murmur 'no', under my breath, but that might have been too much to ask for. I just stood silently by his side, trying not to attract to much unwanted attention.

"Why?" He asked, like he couldn't believe he would ever pick me, or anyone anywhere would; let's just have a '_insult the new girl like she's not_ _in the room listening to everything you're saying_' party. "I apologize for the rudeness, but I must know. What draws you to her?" I could feel his curious, probing gaze on me the entire time.

I peeked up at Edward from between my hair; I was going to hear _this_. He didn't meet my gaze on purpose, and a blush crept up his neck.

"Her hair." He replied simply. I thought he would have been a little more creative.

"Hm…" Aro didn't sound too convinced. "Fine, you should be wed tomorrow, and we will once again have the last place in our family filled." He motioned to the empty chair at the end; I stole a glance at it.

So, Edward needed me to get a place in the Core. I should have known he would find a way to use me as his ticket to power.

As we turned to walk out, I stood up on my tip toes to look like I was whispering affectionately in his ear, but really I was muttering, "I detest you." I rocked back on my heels and kept walking.

He put his arm around my waist and leaned down to say, "I know."

He (along with the Hawks) dropped me off at my room. Ugh, _my_ room. He ordered the Hawks to stand behind the corner so we could have a few seconds of privacy. We had different ideas of what the privacy would entail.

The second they could no longer see us, I ripped my hands out of his, and gave him the most disgusted, hate filled look I could muster. He just looked back, his eyes empty and dead, with just a small hint of hurt in them.

"Go to hell." I muttered; feeling my eyes stinging as the world around me dropped and I was left alone in my hatred and solidarity.

He just stood there as still as a statue, not moving, almost as if I hadn't spoken at all; after a few seconds, he shut his eyes, and his eyebrows downcast in an expression that I had never seen on him. It wasn't hurt, for it was more intense than that. Although I wanted to stay and decipher it, I was still filled with rage.

With that, I slammed the door in his face, knowing I could never open it myself again.

I twisted around and leaned against the door, and as soon as I had my self-control, it was gone. A powerful sob ripped through me like a surprise attack. I clutched my chest, trying to smother it.

I covered my face with my shaky hands and sank to the floor, sobbing and coughing into them. My body rocked in sync with my sobs, and I let all the emotions out I had contained with Edward around. I hadn't known I'd had so much angst and ache built up; but now it was all being released.

_What are you doing_? I asked myself, _stop being stupid. Get it together_. So, over and over, I tried to regain grip on myself and possibly retain some form of pride, but it kept slipping out of my grasp. Every time I tried to grab it, I was hit with another pang of pain.

I bawled and sobbed until the sun went down over the horizon; the shadows in the room grew longer and longer and eventually disappeared altogether.

_Miss Garratt_, I cried internally_, Oh please forgive me! I'm sorry. I failed._

_You did all you could…_ The voice muttered meekly, comforting me. I didn't reply, but I relished the reassurance it was offering.

_Alice, please forget me. Move on, get a new best friend._ I shouted in my mind, hoping somehow she'd hear me. _I'm sorry._

I faced all of my demons; everything that had happened to me, and things that I'd done. Even the good things that came of this catastrophe mocked me with wicked fangs; my breathing went from relatively normal, to broken gasps.

My heart clenched as I ran through my conversation with Edward over and over in my head; my weeping was terrible, it was strangled and so full of pain. Revealing everything I'd been feeling.

I wasn't sure how long I blubbered until I realized that when I closed the door, I never heard Edward's footsteps indicating he had ever walked away.

I suddenly felt as if I wasn't alone.

A cracked, pained, familiar, voice whispered directly from the other side of the door.

"I'm sorry…"

* * *

Where _was _I?

I had gone to sleep in the bed last night, but I felt no covers or cushion; I was reclined. It felt like I was in a chair. I lifted my head about half an inch and moved my wrists, but they were restrained.

Why was I so tired? This wasn't natural. It was like I was stuck in a fog I couldn't escape from.

Opening my eyes, the room was still spinning, but I could just barely make out the shapes around my wrists. I focused in harder.

My wrists were tied to the chair in which I sat. I vaguely acknowledged it; I didn't have the energy to be disturbed by it just yet.

"I think she's waking up!" A high pitched, way too happy voice exclaimed; I heard more voices giggling.

Groaning, I tried to sit up in the reclined chair; I was confused for few moments, for I saw something in front of me, but I hadn't a clue what it was. When I looked at it closely, I recognized it. It was me. I was looking at myself in the mirror.

I realized I was sitting at the vanity in my room, tied to the chair, and I was wearing something different than what I wore to bed.

I looked to my sides; women were sitting on their knees, holding various things like hairbrushes, nail files, and other things I couldn't even distinguish. Most of them had excited grins on their perfectly beautiful faces.

"What…" I started to say, but my voice was slow and slurred; I had to take another breath just to get out another word. "What's going on…?"

"We're preparing you for the wedding, silly!" One of them smiled jovially; although my mind was slow, I knew what she was talking about. I wanted to groan, but as soon as the thought entered my head, it was gone.

I had to ask once again what was going on. They giggled.

"Oh, you must not be over that sedative we gave you." She laughed, covered her mouth with her mouth in a dainty motion.

"Why…why would you…?" I breathed, closing my eyes once more.

"It was for your own good, we did all the plucking and waxing while you were out. Trust me, you'll thank us later. We didn't want you to wake up." She said it as if it was such an obvious answer and I was an idiot for even asking.

"My hands?" I asked softly, wondering why they tied my hands to the arm rests.

"Well that's just for security. We wouldn't want you messing up our work." She nodded; her eyes were bright and honest, like she thought this answer was something that should click with me like the answer to a math problem.

"Or running away." Another one said. Oh, I saw why now. They had sensed I wasn't happy go lucky about this, and they knew I would try to run. They drugged me and tied me down. They were certainly _subtle_. But this girl was different for she didn't seem happy at all; nor sad. Her eyes held malice and hate in them, and she looked strikingly young. She had to be thirteen or fourteen. She saw me studying her and grimaced further. "I'm Jane—spouse to Alec."

I nearly choked on my own spit. "You're a _wife_?"

She glared at me. "Absolutely." She said with disdain in her voice, like being a wife was a rank to be proud of.

I swallowed the bile in my throat and I looked down; my legs were smoother than they'd ever been. Apparently that was what they meant. But as I glanced down at my legs, I noticed something else.

I was wearing a long, white satin dress, like a gown; it was thin and stuck to me like a second skin.

"Is this the dress?" I asked, gaining more consciousness and control of my mind.

"No, this is just what we put on you while we were getting you prepared." Another girl popped up.

I looked at my chest on instinct to look for the necklace, but I found it was bare. I started panicking.

"Where's my necklace?" I shrieked scouring the room for it. I looked to them, with pleading eyes.

"It didn't match the dress." One girl shrugged as if it were no big deal. "It's a gaudy thing, really. I promise you won't miss it." She looked away and started arranging something on the vanity in front of me.

"Give. It. Back!" I screamed in a commanding voice that seemed to surprise them; they jumped back in fear. A few cowered behind each other.

"Give it her!" One of them whispered hastily. "She's scaring me!"

One girl came to me with shaky hands and put it around my neck once more; I sighed, feeling it settle as a part of me. It eased my anxiety a little.

Now that I was fully awake, I got to get a good look in the mirror of myself.

My skin was smooth, and my eyes were lined with black, my lashes were big and dark. My lips were the strangest shade of red, and there was pink on my cheeks. This confused me; I'd always wanted to wear mascara or something, but not a full new identity.

"What did you do to my face?" I asked belatedly, just staring at the reflection in the mirror.

"We made it beautiful." One murmured scornfully. "You should consider yourself lucky you get to marry _him_."

I turned to the girl who had said it, with my mouth hung open. Was he _desirable_ to them?

"Why does everyone keep saying that? I don't _feel_ lucky." I took my eyes away from the mirror, and gazed out the window.

"Aside from that, we're not done with you, so be good and just lay back and let us work our magic; it's so rare we get to." One interrupted, immediately getting something from the table. "Close your eyes."

I did; I felt her brush something on my eyelids. "What do you mean?" I inquired, referring to the 'rare' part.

"When someone gets admitted into the Core, they have to get married to make an heir to carry on their position—" One started.

"—But recently, Royce— may he rest in peace— passed away, and he had no heir. So they picked the most successful agent, being your future husband." It was like they shared one brain, but they were just different bodies.

There was a gorgeous blond in the group; her hair was long and golden, and her eyes were piercing blue. She was easily the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen; her eyes were downcast and she had a constant frown on her face. Except when they mentioned Royce; then her cheek turned up. Why would she be happy about his death?

"Rosalie here is a widow now," one started, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Royce was found in his bedroom stabbed to death. _Our_ husbands believe it was an act from the Resistance…" The look on her face made it clear that she held suspicions of Rosalie. "But I think it's weird that Rosalie was coincidentally missing during his assassination."

Wait….was she accusing her of murdering her husband?

Rosalie's grin gave me all the answer I needed. At least one of them was sane.

Another wife looked uncomfortable and started talking. "Once in a blue moon, we get to do weddings; the next wedding was scheduled for at least another fifteen years; when you get into the Core, you're in it for life. Demetri's son, the oldest, is going to be wed when Demetri dies." The other continued.

"When this opportunity popped up, we begged our husbands to go all out for you, the newest wife; you only get married once." She finished with a smile.

How could they be so sickeningly happy?

"You never got to choose did you?" I whispered; they looked away from me.

"We were chosen, we were _blessed_." One whispered, busying herself with something, not meeting my gaze.

"_This_ is a blessing?" These women really were under a spell of some kind, for there was no excuse for such ignorance.

Staring at these women, these ignorant, stifled women, I felt a wave of sadness and remorse wash over me. The school always taught that the separation of the genders was a step in the right direction, for feminism and woman independence. When in truth, it was a step backwards. We were back to the way were even before the old days; women were once again stifled, scared, and completely at the mercy of their male companions, expected to be beautiful and obedient. These women were brainwashed into believing this was a dream, when really we were living in a nightmare.

"Now," one perked up. "If you have any _questions_…you can ask us." They laughed and covered their faces in embarrassment. Except for the two exceptions.

Was I missing something? Questions about what? Why were they even gigglier than before? And how was that even possible?

"Questions about what?" I asked; this question seemed to be even _more_ hilarious to them. They laughed even harder.

"Questions about after the wedding." She looked at me like I was supposed to comprehend, but I just stared back blankly. Whatever they were trying to get across to me, it was going over my head.

"What happens after the wedding?" I said slowly, hoping to coax out this apparently hysterical joke.

They laughed the hardest at this.

As elusive as it had been moments ago, it suddenly clicked with me like a spark to a fire.

Oh. '_Questions'_. The wedding _night_. A humiliated blush crept up my neck and engulfed my face; I thought, in the back of my mind, I knew what they were talking about all along. I just really, _really_ didn't want to think about it.

I prayed that sometime today, a freak thunder storm would break out despite the sunny day, and kill me with a bolt of lightning, or perhaps a flash flood were to come and drown me before that time came. Or maybe I'd just drop dead of embarrassment first. Creating an heir with Edward was not something I looked forward to doing.

Nonetheless, I was either going to prevent it, or die trying. That's the only thing I was sure of.

The girls kept working on me, putting gels in my hair, they even considered putting extensions in my hair, but they decided against it, thankfully. They put a weird scrub on my hands, arms, and legs; it was rough and I wondered what it was for. Then afterward, my skin was so soft, I couldn't believe it.

My heart pounded like a hummingbird's wings the whole time they were fixing me up.

I finally spotted an enormous, puffy white dress in the corner. I dreaded it. A shiver of disgust went rocketing through me. Not because it wasn't gorgeous (which it was), but because I knew that it was a symbol of my lack of freedom. It was to seal my fate.

Whenever one of them moved to get it, I was restless. I struggled and tried to fight back when they released my hand cuffs.

I tried to fight back, but they found a way to get it on. It was long sleeved, and beaded intensely, but the neckline plunged to give the illusion of cleavage. I covered my chest with my hands. The skirt was puffy and the train seemed to stretch for miles.

My breathing got shallow as I started collapsing inside myself; they ignored me, in their own happy world.

I shivered as they finished their work. They gazed upon me with the widest grins I'd ever seen. My face must have been as pale as a ghosts' because of the terror that raged within me; but I bet they couldn't tell, because of all the layers of make-up.

I began to shake my head, and I looked down at my knees.

"Oh, don't be sad, it's just anxiety, it will all go away once you're married." The one who's name was Jessica (she had told me, in an attempt to make conversation), "Isabella, you're going to be so happy."

She bent down behind me and put her face by mine as we both gazed into the mirror, and then squeezed my shoulders in an attempt at reassurance.

"You mean, as happy as you are?" I asked, meaning to be sarcastic; she didn't take it that way. She beamed and nodded in response.

I stood up, taking her hand in mine, and she walked me to the door, with the other following gleefully behind us like my own posse of paper dolls.

The Hawks were waiting outside the door to go to the place where my free life would end. My breathing grew labored and I started gasping. An ache in my throat shot through me, and it felt as if it were closing up. I wrapped my hand around my neck, and put one hand on my heart.

_Just breathe, just breathe_. I chanted to myself as my legs wobbled as we walked down the long passage.

We reached a separate set of double doors; they left me no time to prepare. They yanked them open and I saw what lie ahead of me.

Edward, stood at the end, dressed similarly to how he was yesterday, a minister at the end, and all of the Core sat waiting for me. They turned to me and stared at me with many various versions of disgust.

How could my life take such a turn?

Before, I was living in a choking world and I longed for what was being withheld; now, I was being brutally exposed to everything I'd been protected from. I wished I could regret all of the events that took place— although my disdain for Edward still burned brightly somewhere inside me, I didn't want to erase what happened. I discovered my father, the truth, new friendships, beauty, and an untapped reservoir of emotions inside myself.

But I despised what lie ahead of me; my life was doom from here. And I had no say in the matter.

I stared at Edward and only Edward; he looked back at me with a hint of regret. It looked like he had failed at something. But in truth, he'd succeeded in this sick game.

Despite everything that happened, I was still painfully new to interacting with the opposite sex. I was just now learning to balance on my feet at this issue that had presented itself only a few short weeks ago. The Crazies had said many things about the male population, many false, and many true. There was only one thing I was positive of right now, from what they had told me.

Marriage was supposed to be a holy, sacred thing. There was nothing sanctified or righteous about this; there was no beauty. This was wrong in so many ways. And I was the only one who saw this. I was shocked the Volturi even offered up the wedding pretense; giving the appearance that I had any say in the matter.

I wasn't alone in this, though. I wasn't the first to go through this. Those women were much stronger than I gave them credit for; they were trying to ease me into this life, seeming as resisting did nothing; they knew that before I had.

A Hawk then nudged me forward, and as much as I didn't want to, I started the endless march down the aisle I never thought I would take.

But, as I was walking, something caught my eye; more like more than one someone.

At least a dozen children sat in two pews, all staring at me. These must have been the children of the members of the Core. All the boys sat to my left, they were the first ones I noticed.

They were handsome boys, considering they were bred from the best. Their eyes held the presence of adult knowledge; some glared me, as if this was what I deserved. Others held nothing in the eternity of their eyes— absolutely nothing. They appeared dead, cold, and emotionless. Just like their fathers.

I slowly moved my head to look at the girls whom sat to my right. Their backs were erect, and they were flawless in looks. But what I found in their gaze struck me more than the boys had. Their eyes were dominated with numbness, sadness, and over all, fear. Their eyes held no light, such as a child's should.

They feared those boys that sat only a few feet away from them; feared them like the devil himself. I had no doubt in my mind that, that was their fathers' intentions the whole time.

I started to die inside, for these children were so much worse off than I was. The girls lived in constant fear, and the boys were being stifled of their childhood and learning to be as sick and twisted as everyone else here.

And without consciously knowing it, I made a decision. Not with my head, for I felt a deep burning my heart, like the flame that had followed a fated spark.

Pride and Common Sense had no say—they didn't matter. _My_ problems and _my_ issues didn't matter.

For once, it wasn't about me.

From this point on, if this continued the way it appeared it would, it would never be about me anymore.

Even if all else failed (which it probably would), even if I was condemned to a life of misery, a prisoner in a fairy tale, a life to being a happy go lucky, thoughtless wife, it wouldn't matter.

I was expected to provide a child— but the first thing I felt was no longer fear for myself, or disgust toward Edward. I felt a deep terror for my future child.

If I were to have a boy, he wouldn't be my own. He would belong to the Volturi. He would be brought up to be a monster, and I would have to go through the staggering pain of watching him grow up like that.

And if I were to have a girl…that would be a million times worse. A girl, to live in utter fear constantly, to always be stifled, to grow up without any knowledge of what freedom, friendship or love felt like. That would be so much worse. At least I felt those _briefly_ before coming here.

I wasn't afraid anymore. I knew what I had to do.

I refused to damn a child to this life, _especially_ my own, even if _I_ had to be. I would soon be slaughtered in cold blood before I let that happen.

It ended here. It ended _now_.

I reached the place to where Edward stood, he was staring at me with an apologetic gaze; my face must have looked so twisted. He must have thought it was because I didn't want to marry him (which was true), but I had much more troubling matters concerning me. Ones he couldn't possibly comprehend.

If I were to do this, I would have absolutely no chance at freedom; I wouldn't get a room to myself, I would never see sunlight again, I would never see _anything_ ever again. But dying in the place of someone you love, seems like a good way to go.

The secret of my crossing The Wall had been the most crucial secret throughout this ordeal— the deadly secret that should never be told. But now, it was necessary. And I was about to tell it to an entire audience of people who were more than prepared to kill me in a second.

I stared into Edward's eyes. I wasn't sure what I was looking for; remorse? He just looked back, searching my own gaze; my decision was clear in my eyes, what I was about to do was in my stare.

His eyes widened in sudden comprehension and his eyes screamed, '_don't do it!_' louder than words could have. His green eyes were burning with the ferocity of the sun.

Ignoring him, I turned to face everyone; with a deep breath, I kissed my assumed innocence goodbye.

"I crossed The Wall." I spoke in a loud and clear voice that reverberated off the walls.

I held my breath, waiting for the screaming and the tackling.

I was shocked when a light chuckle came from one of the members of the Core, causing everyone else to erupt into violent laughter.

My cheeks burned red, and I glared angrily at the man who had started it.

"I mean it!" I shouted it, more laughs echoed off the walls.

"What a stupid girl." A Volturi member said to another, not bothering to cover it up.

"Of course you have sweetie." A wife replied slowly, as if I were slow. "You had to get here somehow."

"No," I shouted. "I mean before I was chosen, I came to this side. I lived here for a few weeks even!" How could they not believe me when it was the truth? The secret I'd kept so dearly this whole time, and now I presenting it to them, and they scoff at it! I felt Edward's hand on my forearm, trying to drag me back, but I hissed and jerked away.

"Don't you dare touch me, Edward!" I shrieked in a sudden burst of anger.

I hadn't planned this next part, but it just kind of came out.

I brought up my hand and slapped him freshly across the face. When my hand connected with his cheek, he went reeling back. That had felt much better than I had intended.

Everyone got quiet at this.

Suddenly, many hands were on me at once, dragging me to the ground.

My face got slammed on the carpeted floor, and a hand kept it there. I was being held down in every place possible so I couldn't so much as even twitch. Pain, rang up from my cheek and into my head, I groaned as they pressed me even harder into the floor.

"You insolent girl!" One of members said from their seat, with the burn of defiance in his voice. "How dare you commit such an act of disloyalty?"

"You will pay for your idiocy." Caius said quietly, rising from his seat. His quietness and calm seemed more deadly than the anger bursting from everyone else.

Suddenly the double doors burst open once more, and a few Hawks walked in, with an angry, knowing look in their eyes; my head had been turned to the side.

"She is guilty of more than just disobedience." The one in the middle said coolly. Suddenly, three people were brought in. I gasped.

"Alice!" I screamed, the Hawk grabbed me by hair, and lifted my head up once more. _Oh no_, I groaned to myself, just before he slammed it again into the floor.

I felt the Hawk above me move away, and gentler hands were on me; the hand holding my head down was gone, so I could look up.

Edward was by my side, with his cheek red, he tried to lift me up off the ground, but he was interrupted.

"Leave that swine on the floor, where she belongs." Aro commanded; Edward hesitated, but he looked to me first. I just stared at him, all of my pain seeping through my now very weathered façade.

"I'm sorry Bella!" Screamed Alice, from wherever she was. "It wasn't on purpose!" The Hawk behind her twisted her arm, she yelled out in pain, a high pitched scream. I lunged, wanting to help her, but Edward lightly held me back.

She had told on me. Like a school girl reporting something to a teacher. She had told them where I had been; the sting of slight disloyalty was fleeting in my heart before it vanished. How could I blame her? It wasn't her responsibility to keep my secrets. Heck, I would have told on me too.

The other two people they had, made both Edward and I gasp.

They had Emmett and Jasper in their arms; both looking beaten and bruised. I cried out as I surveyed them. Emmett's usually endless aura of happiness was now beaten down to a pulp. He looked defeated. And Jasper, when he saw me, he didn't look at me with hatred. He looked like he didn't even have the energy to consciously recognize me. Or Edward.

Edward however, didn't cry out like I had, he stayed quiet in himself. Knowing that another display like mine would give him the same fate I had.

Finally, he took me by the forearm and helped me to my feet.

"This girl," The Hawk started again. "Has been on this side previous to her being selected." His voice rang out with authority and finality.

The whole room was silent again; the women and children who were cowering from the excitement, looked up with wide eyes. So did the members of the Core.

Marcus rose with an astonished expression on his face. "It is true…" He whispered. Fear was struck into my heart, for I could sense the storm coming.

"Your previous crime was mercifully forgiven, for you are still young, and verbal defiance's are, though still serious, are able to be over looked. But this… this is unforgivable. No matter how much he may want you, for reasons that elude me, you are a criminal; and you are undeserving of the honor." He pointed to Edward accusingly; he then turned his head slightly and nodded to the Hawks.

In a quick motion, a Hawk moved to push Edward away from me; but he was prepared, and he shoved back with the reflexes of a cat. The Hawk went flying into the one behind him.

That ignited a fire amongst everyone. The Hawks were soon all over Edward, tackling him and prying him away. Although he was a good fighter, I knew he couldn't win.

Despite my hatred, I found myself screaming; screaming for them to stop hurting him. It made no sense, since I had told him how much I loathed him multiple times and how I'd slapped him only moments ago.

Hands were on me, and I was forced to my knees. Disoriented, I looked up and focused on what was about to take place.

My eyes widened as an unmistakable glimmer shone above my head.

The Hawk in front of me held a frighteningly long and sharp sword high above his head, ready to bring it down on me.

I closed my eyes and hung my head, waiting for the strike.

I wanted to say that I didn't fear death, so I could go down with a few shreds of pride and grace—but that couldn't have been farther from the truth.

I crumbled inside myself like a child; I absolutely trembled at the idea of death. Especially this one. I feared it like nothing else in the world; nobody alive truly knew what happened after death. Nobody knew in truth what Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory looked like. I feared the unknown.

I supposed, I had it coming one way or another. I now realized I never would have been able to live my life like that, stifled and being the perfect daughter to my mother. My life was never going to go smoothly, ending with a clean slate, even if none of this had happened, it would have happened some other way. Perhaps that's why I watched my behavior so much more cautiously than some others, because I somehow knew there something in me that was going to be free eventually.

I asked myself if I regretted anything; I wanted to regret ever defying Mother. I thirsted to regret Edward; I wanted to resent ever knowing him. But it was as hard as if I were trying to move The Wall itself— it wouldn't happen.

I shut my eyes, banishing the gruesome image of the sword about to strike down on me; would it hurt? I prayed not.

The sound of air rushing hit my ears as the sword started to come down.

I saw many faces in that split second before it was about to hit me, Mother, Alice, Miss Garratt, Jacob, Emmett, even Jasper, Carlisle, and Edward. Everyone who had affected me one way or another was there to bid me farewell in my head.

As soon as the motion had started, it abruptly stopped. The light stopped seeping through my eyelids, and I felt a presence. My eyes snapped open.

Edward had somehow broken free of that mob. He was now crouched between me and the Hawks trying to force the sword down. I was too shocked to do anything but stare.

A drop of deep crimson landed on the back of my hand. My eyes trailed upward to the source.

The sword _had_ hit something; Edward had stopped it with his own palm.

The sword was now frozen; half of it was cutting into his hand, and half in the air. Edward's eyes were defiant, and held burning determination.

My mouth merely hung open. Why had he done something so stupid? Now he would be in trouble as well. But why did I care? I shouldn't have, it was only what he deserved. But my heart tugged, as he blocked the blade from my head; he let out little gasps of strain as he held it with a death grip.

A feeling arose with strength and conviction, an uncontrollable force; a feeling I had abandoned not too long ago. A feeling I'd been trying to smother unsuccessfully. It filled me completely to the point of bursting.

Although I was angry at Edward, angry beyond words, I didn't hate him, I never have, never could. Although my mind had screamed that I did, it was feeble and short lived; like I had finally gotten tired of hitting a wall that was never going to move anyway.

In a split second, another Hawk ran over and shoved Edward roughly out of the way; but he wasn't going to just lie down and take it. He yanked the sword with him, away from its wielder.

He now held it… just the wrong end.

Exasperation tainted his eyes as he got back to his feet. Deep red seeped from his palm and made its path down his arm as held up the sword by its blade.

Even though the sentiment was powerful, he was living in a fairy tale if he thought he could fight off all the Hawks, which were ready to kill at the drop of a pen. The odds just weren't in our favor. _Our_? Was that what we were now, a team?

In a fraction of a second, I was on the floor again; I groaned as the floor met my cheek with a violent 'hello'.

The tables had turned; I could almost visibly see Edward lose what credibility he had with these people; for, he was on the ground with me, being held down.

He was finally getting a taste of his own medicine. I bet he had never been pinned down outside of practice or training. Also, what I knew about him, something no lie could cover up, was that he certainly didn't like losing. He squirmed, exerting energy blindly, trying to regain the upper hand. It was sad really, watching him struggle so feverishly, attempting to win a battle that had already been lost before it had started.

I turned my heads to the women, the very women who had dolled me up. I looked into their eyes, but I didn't see fear, remorse, or anger. What I saw in each one of their perfectly made up eyes, was intense disappointment. As if I had failed, like I was a child who couldn't learn even the simplest of equations.

I supposed in their eyes, I _had_ failed; they live their lives in complete fearful silence. And for what? I now knew the answer. They had their hands protectively covering the frail bodies of their children. For they knew that they would be alone without them. They were much stronger, much braver than I had given them credit for; much better than I.

An awful groan and thud sounded in my ear for a few minutes as I pondered this; I guessed it was the sound of my pain and my heart beating. But as I turned around, I saw where the sound was really coming from.

Edward was being kicked, punched and having his head smashed on the wooden floor of the alter by the Hawks. Now that I knew where those terrible sounds had come from, I gasped; he was in so much pain. Blood was dripping down his forehead. I kept staring at him, trying to meet his gaze. But he never met mine. He was probably deliberately avoiding my gaze; as if he had failed as well, for he couldn't come up with a plan out of this. Improvisation doesn't work in situations such as this one.

There was a rushing in my ears, drowning out all other sounds; the voices around me were muffled and sounded slurred. I recognized the voice tone of the head Volturi member, ordering something, but I couldn't understand it.

I was roughly lifted up by the Hawks; one of them threw me over his shoulder in a careless move, and I had to look back at the faces of everyone as I was pitifully carried out, along with everyone else. Edward was more or less dragged, not carried; they probably thought he didn't deserve to be carried for his rebellion.

An extraordinary emotion flooded through me, but I couldn't decipher it; was it pride for destroying the one thing that the people here had taken solace in? Having them not able to mold me into what they saw as perfect? Or was it desperation; trying to trick me into thinking I'd done everything flawlessly and that it had to end this way? A sick desperate move to try to reassure myself into a false sense of achievement when in truth I did nothing of any value? That I was just a bug being easily smashed?

I couldn't figure it out, but I let it rest because I really didn't want to know. For once, I was fine with being kept in the dark. Perhaps I was afraid of the answer.

**Alright you guys, the next chapter is IT. The next chapter is THE chapter!**

**Now the teaser may seem to make no sense now, but it will in the next chapter….**

**Review for the rest of the teaser**

_**The End was by no means the end. It was only the beginning.**_

_**"That's awful." I groaned, feeling so defeated. No one really could beat the Volturi after all.**_

_**"Well, we won't live to see it." He breathed. "I guess that's good." I was about to go into a silent mourning session when he suddenly spoke up again. **_

"_**You know," he started. "My father is older than my mother." He finished tersely.**_

_**I wrinkled my nose in confusion. "That's nice." Why would he bring something up so randomly? "But that pertains to what's going on, how, exactly?"**_

_**He grunted, dissatisfied, as if he was frustrated I wasn't catching on to whatever he was trying to say.**_

_**"Just saying age is just a number." He shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. **_


	21. Chapter 20

**This is it kids… are you as giddy as I am? This is THE chapter. You know what I'm talking about…you don't? Well this chapter contains what you have all been asking for since day one…I hope it lives up to your expectations ;)**

**Chapter 20**

I floated through a sea of enchantment with a smile on my face; glimmering clouds brushed by my arms like mist and held me up, like arms carrying me. I relished in the feeling.

But as time progressed, I noticed, the arm clouds were gone, and a sharp pain in my arms and neck started to pulsate. I should have fell, for nothing was holding me up; at least, nothing I was aware of.

It was as if my body was being suspended from something, and my shoulder muscles were tight, screaming for relief. My wrists were chapped, and I wasn't quite positive that the reason I couldn't see was the room, or my own vision.

With a jolt, I leapt into awareness, suddenly very awake.

The first thing I felt was the coldness radiating from the wall of the room of which I was in, next, muscle ache in my upper body. Then, the room was lit, but very, very dimly. I was confused, for it felt as if I had weights on my shoulders. I felt as if I weighed a thousand pounds.

The last thing I realized was I wasn't on the ground. All of my weight was being held by my wrists, which were currently above my head. Charcoal black chains held them in their mighty grasp, and my feet were so temptingly close to the ground, it was almost comical. If I could only stand, I would relieve this great pain from my arms. My shoulder sockets were passed screaming, they were now dead, so close to be ripped free.

I finally a had a clear view of what situation I was in, the memories from what had just happened, had been forever constant in my head, refusing to let even my oasis, unconsciousness, free me from my demons.

Letting out a shaky breath, I let my eyes trail downward. The once lustrous, bright, white dress was now in shambles, hanging tattered—now a grayish looking color— to my body. It was an accurate reflection of just how defeated I felt.

A rustling sound came from my left, about five feet away; I automatically stiffened, listening intently, not daring to look over.

"You're awake." I knew I wasn't alone. Even worse, I was with the last person I wanted to be alone with.

I let out an expletive under my breath, hoping it was unintelligible. There was no response. I guessed that he wasn't too eager to address the elephant in the room, but it was going to have to be him, because there was no way I was obligated to address it first.

"How long have I been out?" I asked dryly, skipping past any form of shock. This kind of entrapment didn't surprise me anymore.

"Not too long. You seem to have a way of passing out often." Edward attempted to joke; anger flared up like a raging inferno in me. How dare he make such a casual statement, as if nothing were wrong? He no longer had the right to talk to me like that. Why I allowed him to do so in the first place still escaped me.

"Ah…" He breathed out awkwardly at my cold silence. "You're mad at me; that's understandable."

It amazed me that he could belittle my anger to such a small adjective such as 'mad'. _Blind fury_ didn't even cover it.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" He offered agitatedly. I remained a stone, staring straight ahead, refusing to meet his gaze, which I could sense on me.

"Alright." I replied coldly; he let out a frustrated breath.

"I'm sorry, really I am." He pushed, but I kept my eyes away from him, for I didn't know what I would do by the sight of his piercing green eyes.

"I know."

"Then why don't you accept it?" His voice raised an octave.

"I did."

"You're still mad…and can you give me more than a two word answer?"

"No."

I had no idea what was wrong with me. Half of me said to talk to him— maybe yell a little, get it settled, work something out. It wasn't worth the resistance, for there was no time like the present. I guess it was a good environment as any to settle things. My heart said to hear him out, my mind said to let him wallow. But it was like my mind and heart were unplugged from my actions, like my actions had an agenda of their own. I knew it was childish to ignore him and lock him out, but I had no idea how to proceed otherwise. The only way I knew was to fight. Maybe that was unhealthy.

"Let me explain myself, please." The desperation in his voice made me look at him for once, even though I had made a pact not to even give him that much satisfaction.

It was like if I didn't at least like at him, he would perish. I let my eyes float to him. They burned like a green fire, they were so fierce. But it was such an intense look, I was taken aback. He was in the same position as I, hanging from the wall, except his arms are spread apart above his head.

Anger still raged inside me, but a part of me wanted— _needed_ to hear what he had to say. I knew I should be able to just wallow in silence, but the fact that I knew we would be here until we died pushed me to maybe offer some leeway and present his case.

"I don't know where to start." He began.

"How about from the beginning? How about why you lied to me, led me on, in the first place?" – Here it was. The wrath my heart had wished to be released. The accusations— here they were, to join the party— "Why you were so cruel?"

"See? This is good, we're moving past blunt statements." He cajoled, annoyingly.

"Can you stay serious for five seconds, Edward? You're supposed to be the _older_ one here." I let that slip. I wanted to let out so much more though. So much anger penned up inside.

"Look, I didn't mean to lie—"

"It's a conscious decision, it's not involuntary. Stop acting it like it is." I spat, sick of his avoiding the problem. "You lied from the very beginning, making me think you were just so curious boy who wanted to know about my side, about _me_— which I'm sure you already knew all about. You lied about not meeting a woman before, everything that you said was part of the façade. Everything you did was for your benefit. You could have just locked me in the basement until I healed, then dragged me here, you didn't have to set me up so high so I would fall so hard when I discovered you're lie. How could you be so brutal? Do you get sick satisfaction from this?"

"Because I didn't want to just lock you away until you healed." He whispered, not looking at me. That only confused me further, sending me sailing into a new wave of rage.

"That explains it _all_. I thought it 'wasn't your choice'. You need get your story straight—"

"Let me talk!" He shouted, suddenly furious. "For once can you just _shut the hell up?_" He squeezed his eyes shut and huffed like an animal.

I was stunned into silence.

Edward had always been so composed— so in control, so aware of things— now it was different, like he was vulnerable. Why would he go to such great lengths to get his word in? Why did it matter to him so much? I didn't think I'd ever really seen him angry at me. But, what gave him the right to be mad at _me?_ I was supposed to be the one in the right. Was I a hypocrite for not letting him talk? Why should I care? I should be shouting back at him right now, but I wasn't. Something inside me told me I would regret it if I flipped my lid.

I turned my head away from him, in shame. There was no other emotion. Why should _I_ be ashamed? I shouldn't have been, but I was.

"Go on." I choked out, wishing to move on and bury my embarrassment.

He exhaled and closed his eyes. When he reopened them, his gaze seemed a thousand miles away. "My whole life, my goal was to be the best. Anything less wasn't an option." He started, staring unseeingly into space. "When The Wall went up, they drafted all the boys from ages seven to nineteen years old to train to be an agent. What didn't kill you, made you stronger. The training was the same for boys at age eighteen, for the boys at age eight, so it made it even more brutal. I was seven when I was drafted—part of the youngest group. Through the vicious training, I learned not to get attached to anyone in there with me, for most of the boys close enough for me to call friends, died soon. I was among the few young ones that survived to see my teenage years."

His eyes grew distant, soon I found myself captivated by his tale.

"Jas and Em were too young to be drafted when they recruited, so they were spared. I trained to be better than everyone else, because when I turned twelve, I found out that the best out of the age group would be able to live with their families on weekends. So, I pushed harder than I had ever pushed myself, just to get back to my dad.

"I pleased the Core, so they allowed me weekends at home. That's when I first discovered my father had taken in Jas and Em. That was why I despised them so much in the beginning. It had felt like he was moving on from me, and that he was looking for sons to replace me. And for years, Jas and Em had lived with just my dad, so they saw me as an outsider. Later, we got passed that, and I came to understand, my father took them in out of his own kind soul.

"As the training progressed, I was unknowingly becoming more and more valuable to the Volturi; I was just working harder to get even more time with my family. After a certain number of years, I was able to live at home completely, and check in with them a few times a week. Soon, they were assigning me to even more critical cases— such as sniffing out rebels throughout the nation."

Images of our journey to Ole' Rust flashed in my mind, the way he seemed to know his way so incredibly well through the dense vegetation. The way he knew it like the back of his hand.

"That's how you knew the forests so well." I murmured. He nodded in response. "Except when we got lost." I added dryly. He nodded once more.

His eyes met mine, and he looked at me with an intense stare, making it impossible for me to break away. "I didn't lie, not in the beginning. They keep a very, very tight leash on what we know. I had just recently seen a woman—but you see, we're not allowed to talk to any of the wives. So, I'd only seen glances, I was still oblivious to everything about women except their look. I didn't what the other side was like, all of the questions I asked you, were legitimate." He paused. "They…" He let out a small, breathy, chuckle. "They don't train for situations like this."

"Situations like what?" I asked softly, not breaking gaze.

"You." He said simply and plainly.

"_Me_?"

He held eye contact. "That day. That day, I was standing guard at The Wall, for that part of The Wall had been damaged in a recent flood, and they were reconstructing it. I had to oversee it while they were on break. The day had been quiet, as usual, I had expected a boring day. But then," He chuckled darkly. "I heard a strange noise. And I saw you. Lying there, at my feet, still under The Wall. They never trained me for something like that. And it scared the hell out of me.

"I never dreamed someone would be so stupid as to try to cross The Wall—but then again, I didn't know you."

"Gee, thanks." I said sardonically. "But, why didn't you turn me in then?" I asked curiously, it sounded like he would have—or was supposed to—turn me in immediately. His teasing grin faded, and his head hung, as if he weren't sure himself.

"I was supposed to. If we ever encountered something we weren't prepared for, we were supposed to bring it to their attention immediately. But I didn't. For one thing, you were dying, and I knew I couldn't leave you there."

"You never did go to the hospital…did you? All those times, you were just reporting back to the Volturi?" I asked quietly, peeking up from my bangs to look at him. He held guilt in his eyes. "You came here. Every time you said you were going to the hospital, you came _here_."

He nodded grimly. "My dad is a doctor. That much was true. But not me, though. As a part of training, we get extensive medical knowledge, to heal injured comrades; you couldn't get by without that. The second reason I didn't turn you in was, well, curiosity."

"Curiosity?"

"I guess I had more rebellion in me than I thought. My dad always told me stories about women and the other side, making me realize that there was something more than just the Volturi's way, there was another world than the one they instilled in me. And when the opportunity presented itself to me, I couldn't resist the temptation." He chuckled a bit and broke our eye contact.

"_What_ temptation?" I pressed, the more he explained, the more confused I became. He sighed in exasperation, as if what he was saying should be blatantly obvious.

"You. I could have turned you in, and never seen you again. You probably would have been executed— I knew that. That's why I took you home instead.

"I told myself I would turn you in after a few hours or maybe a day, at most, after I grilled you with questions that had haunted me for my whole life. I guess I didn't see you as a person, really. Just an information holder. But the more you told me, the more I was captivated, and the longer I wanted you to stay."

As he talked, I felt a blush creep up my neck, and I turned my head away.

"After that, the lies just kept coming. I had to lie more to cover up my first lies, and it just spun out of control."

"The reason you kept me so hidden wasn't because you were worried I would get kidnapped, was it?" I asked dismally.

His voice was pained. "Not by whom you thought. The Volturi would have found you soon enough even if I had _buried_ you. By that time, I had already let it slip to them that I had something in my possession and that I would bring it to them when 'it' was ready."

That first realization led to another and a whole chain of others. "That's why we picked up and left so suddenly, to go find my dad." That annoying sound of strain that came into your voice when you're about to cry, became laced into my tone. I bit back the tears, wishing not to divert attention from the subject.

His eyes sunk, and even more hurt came into them, "They were becoming suspicious, they were going to come and check it out soon. I knew it was wrong, but your father's unknown whereabouts opened up another door to get you away, so I could gain more knowledge. It was irresistible. I should have let them take you at that point, you were almost healed by then. But I just _couldn't_. I told myself I still didn't know enough about the other side to satisfy my curiosity, but something else had grown inside me. Something I didn't—and still don't, completely understand. I don't think I would have ever stopped learning. You're just so complicated." He laughed, as I frowned at the almost insult.

"Soon enough the idea of turning you in seemed less and less appealing, but Bella, I didn't lie to you in Ole' Rust—"

"Except about the tattoo thing." I muttered coldly, as an aside.

"Uh…yeah. But when you found out about your father, I didn't expect to care at all. I didn't expect to feel so hurt— hurt for _you_. I figured you would somewhat jarred, but I merely saw it as a bump on the road to getting back. It hit me like a pile of bricks when I found out, I didn't want to tell you. Then that man handed me that journal and I just didn't know what to do.

"I was worried the journal would release my secret to you, so I wasn't going to give it to you. But when I saw there was no way to open it, I figured it was safe. I guess I was wrong." He chuckled half-heartedly, I exhaled shallowly. "I honestly had no idea your father had been so involved with the Volturi, so I gave it to you, hoping he was just an innocent man that got separating during The End. It turns out he was about as involved as someone could get."

His eyes suddenly got very serious, "Bella, after you went back to your side, I did some research through files on your father." I held my breath. His eyes looked pained and weary. "I found out how he died."

"_How?_" I choked. I hadn't expected that.

He turned his face away from me, and his hair covered his eyes.

"For making a device. I don't know what it was, because there were no more records past that. But it must have been pretty destructive, because as soon as he finished The Wall, they executed him. They knew he had created a device, but they could never find it." His voice was fearful and had a hint of amazement.

A device. A device had brought him to his death. What could he have made that got him killed? A death ray? A bomb?

"The diamond in the necklace was the key, to the journal." I said, moving on from my father's death. "It told me everything. When we returned, after I had asked to stay at your house, I read it. I found out everything, and I didn't think. I ran. And I found that hole in The Wall. Again." A light flickered on in my head.

"Oh," Edward started. "You got your memory back, right?"

"Yes." I replied.

"Explain to me again, what it was." He settled, like he was ready to hear a bedtime story.

I exhaled loudly. Everything, the events from getting my memory back. Oh…Alice. I stayed quiet, trying to repress that awful memories.

"You don't want to tell me?" He phrased in a careful way.

"You're mother… I already told you she…er… _defied_, the Volturi." He whipped his head around at the mention of her. "Your mother was a teacher, _my_ teacher, at school. Well, on a very specific day— your birthday, as I said before—she just cracked." I paused, reading his expression.

"Cracked…" He murmured softly.

"She couldn't handle the stifling anymore. She took the whole class period to tell us about this side, something strictly forbidden. Then, the Hawks carried her away." I stared into the darkness, my eyes stinging with tears at the memory. "It haunted me.

"The next morning, my mother was gone. I went into her room and found pictures, a ring, and my necklace in her drawer. All the pictures were of my father and her. That's when I realized just how much my mother had kept me in the dark. Your mother's outbreak gave me fire. I stood up to my mother for the first time. It was so relieving—so freeing!" I smiled to myself, but it soon was wiped away. Edward was listening as intensely as I was in thought.

"But that freedom was short lived. That kind of rebellion is what she despises most. She shoved me, and my head strategically found its way to the hard wooden end of her bed. So, I ran. I didn't think— I tend to do that— I just ran. And I stumbled upon that hole in The Wall. I did a little crawling. And here we've come full circle." I stopped, and looked over to him. His eyebrows were knit together, and his mouth was set in a frown.

"To think, I came so close to turning you in." He whispered staring off into space. "What…what is she like?" He inquired softly, peeking up from his lashes.

"Who?"

"My mom." He breathed, seeing a glistening in the corner of his eye.

"She was kinder than I ever could have imagined—you don't really get to know your teachers very personally. After I returned to my side, I ran away from home.

"But, eventually I was caught. It was inevitable. I was taken jail. You know that place I was telling you about?" He nodded worriedly. "When I was younger, I knew getting in trouble bad enough to get sent to jail was out of the question. I wasn't a trouble maker.

"I saw your mother there. She kept me sane for however long I was there. But…" I let out a strangled sob. "After a while, she was losing it." I stopped to spare him; he didn't need to suffer the pain.

"No," he forced suddenly. "I can take it. Go on."

I breathed, unsure he knew what he was saying; he knew what he was getting himself into. "When I was being taken away to be brought here, I found out that, everyone in the room was going to be executed soon. The Hawk didn't say when. But she is supposed to die, if she hasn't… already." Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I didn't want to look over to see if he was crying too. Something told me I didn't need to.

I should have just shut up and not said anything; I could visibly see just how this was killing him. I should have spared him, even though he said he could handle it.

Looking over to him, I saw past the overbearing agony in his eyes, and found a glint of envy. I supposed, in that regard, it was unfair. That even though she wasn't my mother, I got to spend so much time with her. But as I thought this, I suddenly had the biggest yearning, to have her be my mother instead. I knew I could tell her anything and not be judged; that was something I couldn't say for my own mother. I was suddenly very jealous of Edward—but then I remembered, that I had been the one to reap the benefits he'd been neglected of.

He was silent for a while, and I found my anger slowly withering, like powder disintegrating in water. I knew I should be ticked off for letting it melt so easily away. But due to the circumstances, I was far past caring.

"Why would the Volturi do this… this evil thing? It's as if they're not even _human_." I snarled to myself, my fury turning toward the Volturi.

"Power." He muttered. "Power hungry. They're very, very power hungry. Separating the two races gives them that power."

"I know." I said, surprised at myself.

"Do you, really?" He said condescendingly, looking me straight in the eyes. He obviously was telling me something important, or at least, it was big to him.

"But, how do they plan on keeping everyone separated? If I could get through, anyone could. It's almost like it's…it's…

"…Their plan isn't over yet is it?"

He nodded solemnly.

It wasn't going to stop. It was _never_ going to stop. The building of The Wall was just the beginning of a grander, horrific scheme.

His eyes grew grim. "No. First they are going to tell your side that there wasn't enough funding to keep those Care Centers you told me about, running. They are going to close them down so reproduction within the villages is impossible. They're going to gather a select group of men and women to have children, then those men and women will be killed; and those children will be put in camps, where they will be brainwashed until adulthood. Then they will be released into the community; they'll make it seem like there is nothing beyond that God forsaken wall, that crossing it will mean you will just fall into nothingness. And they'll believe it. It's a vicious and endless cycle." I grew cold. And not just because of the chilling temperature.

The End was by no means the end. It was only the beginning.

"That's awful." I groaned, feeling so defeated. No one really could beat the Volturi after all.

"Well, we won't live to see it." He breathed. "I guess that's good." I was about to go into a silent mourning session when he suddenly spoke up again.

"You know," he started. "My father is older than my mother." He finished tersely.

I wrinkled my nose in confusion. "That's nice." Why would he bring something up so randomly? "But that pertains to what's going on, how, exactly?"

He grunted, dissatisfied, as if he was frustrated I wasn't catching on to whatever he was trying to say.

"Just saying age is just a number." He shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. My eyebrows knit together. Why was he acting so strangely? One minute we were talking about how terrible the Volturi was, and our impending doom, and the next this?

"Okay." I said carefully, trying to sort through the confusion that cluttered my brain; what was he getting at?

"Do you get it?" He asked, hopefully. A fire lit his eyes, and like the fire inside myself, I wished I knew what it was trying to express.

"…No."

"Ugh." He exclaimed, and rested his head back and closed his eyes. Was he angry at me? What did I do _now?_

"After you came to this side, the prospect of turning you in seemed less and less appealing; do you remember me saying that?" He let on once more. I nodded. "I didn't know why though. I had been taught my whole life to let go of myself when presented something related to work; but somehow, I was brought out from behind the mask I had made for myself. It was coaxed out."

"By what?" I asked, ignorantly.

He turned his eyes to me. "You. You brought it out." I held my breath. He had said that before, but it was just because I was the first woman he got to have a conversation with.

"Yes, you told me. I was the first woman you ever met, got to talk to. That's why, you weren't prepared for that. I know." I said this, knowing this was the truth.

He closed his eyes once more. "No, not that. _You_ brought that out. Yourself, not your status as a woman, but you."

After finding out about his membership in the Volturi, I had given up on this crazy emotion I was feeling inside, called Love. I had let it go. The funny, unexplainable, piercing feeling, was now forcing its way back from the bowels of my heart, and to the surface.

His eyes were fierce, confident and sure.

"At first, I wrote off the feelings as annoyance, because you really _do _annoy me sometimes." He smirked in my direction. "But there was something underlying, steadily building.

"I realized I would go to bed thinking about things you said, things so elusive, I would lay awake, trying to decode them. You confused me so much, but it wasn't an angry confusion. It was a contended ignorance. As I said, you are nothing like I expected. I only knew rumors and stories about women, and you fit the mold, but you also broke it. You're what they said, but also so much more." I felt a powerful smile break its way through my face.

I wanted him to keep talking, keep admitting these strange things; all my anger, all my resentment, all my rational reasons for hating him, evaporated.

But a part of me also wanted to stop him, for him to shut up right there; I had admitted my feelings before (to myself only thankfully), and I was hurt. I knew that if he was saying what I thought he was that I had to stop him. I didn't know if I could handle anything else.

"And—" He started. A flare of desperation flared up in my chest, a desperation for him to stop.

"Please, stop." I whispered shortly, shutting my eyes.

His mouth snapped shut. I could see that confusion had dominated over that assurance he had a second ago.

"What? Why?" He asked, upset and exasperated. An abrupt desperation surrounded the air around us, suffocating me.

"_I love you. _Don't you get it?"

No..._NO! _This couldn't be happening! The words were sprinkled like salt on an open wound, adding insult to injury.

"I can't." – I blurted out—"_You_ can't." I was having trouble forming complete sentences.

How many times had I secretly dreamed of this? Not just him, but any man admitting something so powerful to me? And now I was wishing it would stop, to wish it had never started. I wished he would just maintain what little middle ground we had reached beyond hate and betrayal and between these scary and crippling confessions.

"I'm not sure how much time we've got left, so I've got to get this off my chest. I. Love. You." He pushed incessantly. Frustration and an insane need to make it stop flared in me, I didn't like feeling rushed to tell him what I felt when I honestly had no clue myself.

"Because I'm scared okay?" I shouted over those three words he wouldn't stop saying. "Are you happy? I, Isabella Swan, am _scared_."

He grew quiet. Then he said this next sentence so softly, I almost missed it. "I think the time for fear has passed." He motioned to our surroundings; obviously a blow to me, for being scared when the game was over and we were as good as dead in the dungeon.

Fear was really stupid; it was a stupid emotion to feel at a time like this. Fear would have been proper right before this, or even earlier than that. Now, I had nothing left to lose. Everything except my last breath. If I admitted this, I would be losing the last thing that was mine.

But was that really so bad? For what little time we had left, I would be able to give myself to him fully. What harm could it do?

His voice finally fell silent while I huffed, trying to control this sudden uprising of dark emotion.

I was scared. Terrified actually; what did this mean? I still haven't gotten past the fact that he harbored these feelings, and how could _he_ possibly have feelings for _me_? I was just a kid to him— wasn't I?

'_Age is just a number_', he'd said. Plus the difference isn't _that_ much; now if he were ridiculously older that would be different…

We were going to die. No doubt about that, so really, what did it matter? It shouldn't have mattered. Yet, it did.

I should have been giddy— elated at what he said. But, I could do nothing more than hold this off as long as possible. Something in the back of my head said I was at the end of my rope, that I really could handle no more. I felt like I was pushing away something inhumanly powerful by mere hairs, and that I was slowly losing the battle. That the thread tying me to sanity was stretching itself too far.

Waves of regret and self disgust started eating up at me from the inside, like an invincible virus.

If only this conversation would have happened earlier, maybe we could have prevented such a confrontation, being in such a terrible situation; maybe something could have been worked out. We wouldn't have been captured, my friends wouldn't be imprisoned, and none of this pain would have been experienced. All this pain, all this ache, all this heartbreak, could have easily been prevented. I felt like such an imbecile. I didn't even let him explain himself when it really mattered. Now that I've heard what he had to say, I feel more shame than I ever had.

I had run. Like a coward. Maybe I deserved this fate.

But he didn't, and that's what hurt most of all.

I looked upon him now, cold and staring off into nothingness, faced with death, when he didn't deserve it. I had painted a dreadful picture of him in my head, and didn't even occur that there could be some explanation. Because I was bloody _scared!_

I always saw myself as the strong one, the one who reigned Alice in when she had a bad idea; the medium, the rational one. The barer of pain. It turns out I was nothing more than a selfish coward, hurting those I cared about.

Being in the wrong wasn't a good feeling. I tried to avoid it when I could. My only hope for redemption would have been to get Edward out of here, to escape, and I couldn't even conjure that up.

I wasn't worthy of such affection, such a statement of absolute devotion. That's why I pushed him away; I did nothing to deserve it, I caused too much trouble for my own good. I did nothing for him, to make him feel this way; I wasn't even sure if this was true, or if this is brought on because of the death sentence we have against us.

He should have hated me— I would have felt so much better if he did. This was a million times worse. Much worse than any form of loathing.

"Why?" I spoke up suddenly, throwing his question back at him. His head snapped up and his eyes were filled with confusion. "Why do you feel that way?" I lowered my voice toward the end, embarrassed to say it loud.

A smirk crossed his face. "Many reasons." He said vaguely. I wanted to slap him… again.

"Oh, that's nice and distinct." I spewed, rolling my eyes, jittery than anything at the moment.

He huffed. "What do you want me to say? It certainly isn't because of your charm or anything."

"Hey!" I yelped indignantly.

"I'm being honest. I don't know why, I just know I do. It seems to be the only thing I'm positive of anymore." He sighed; I'm sure it was supposed to be romantic and sweet, but it only fed my fire. I swore he was doing it to egg me on.

"Shut up!" I spat, humiliated.

"Ah, there's that charm I was talking about."

I exhaled slowly, trying to calm down enough to proceed.

"How do you know you're not just saying this because these are our last days— if even that much?" I tried to sound reasonable, maybe he would come to his senses, apologize, and take it back like I was trying to make him do. It would be easier for both of us, and make more sense.

"Because I know myself; death and torment is nothing new to me, Bella. I've been on the brink of death before. I know what desperate emotions are, and what's real."

He had an answer to just _everything_, didn't he? Peachy.

"Ugh." I groaned, trying to collect my thoughts.

"Look, I won't mention it again if you answer me two questions." It was an innocent enough proposal, yet, something much more trying lay behind the seemingly harmless phrase. Despite my better judgment, I nodded in agreement.

"If it hadn't been forced, would marrying me really be so bad? Do you _like_ me, even just a little?"

_Kill me now_. I had been fighting death for the last month, and now when I welcomed it, it wouldn't come.

Out of all the questions in the world he could have asked, it had to be the one that would undo me.

Of course I loved him; it was the only thing that hadn't changed. Even through the hate, I subconsciously knew I still and always would love him. But admitting it out loud, to him, was different than admitting it even to myself.

I thought about it. About me, a happy, blushing bride, him in a dark tuxedo, in a blissful place, me spending my life with him, becoming a member of his family, starting one on our own—our way. Not the Volturi's way. What would it mean _now?_ Nothing, really, the possibility of that life was obliterated. It's not like we could hug and kiss romantically, like in the books when we confessed. It was pretty set that we would never have physical contact for the rest of our short lives. What harm would saying it verbally do? None…I hoped.

I turned my gaze to him, his eyes bored into mine such a ferocity, I didn't dare break the gaze; I asked myself a thousand times in my head, if I loved him, looking for even a slight indecision (maybe I was praying for one). But each time, it came out to a resounding 'yes'. Even now, my heart beat erratically in my chest, and my face flushed.

_I can't_, I told myself, _I won't_.

_Oh yes you will_, the voice shoved so hard, the words were so close to flying out of my mouth.

_Nice for you to join us again_, I seethed at it. _Care to explain where you've been_?

_I'm only around when you need me_. It replies coolly.

_Now is hardly a time I need you_.

Something began building inside me. It started at the pit of my stomach and worked its way upward, consuming all of me. I suspected the voice, but not even the voice was this powerful. I burned up all space behind the words in my throat, pushing upward and outward. It was something of my own orchestration, because I could feel the voice, merrily watching from the sidelines.

"No. In fact it wouldn't have been bad at all; it would have been great," I paused, before letting the words flow from my tongue. "I love you…a lot." I didn't dare look at him as I said this, in fear of losing my nerve.

To my worst fears (and hopes), he didn't say anything. The silence in the room was deafening, the words hung in the air, rotting in silence.

"Say it again," He said quietly. This time it came easier to my lips.

"I… love you." I wanted to bite my tongue, for I had not read his reaction yet.

His grin grew wider. "You have no idea how, invigorating that is to hear."

I sighed, in relief. "I think I have a pretty good idea." The phrase was supposed to come out jokingly, but instead, came out more like a confession. Our gazes meet, and held for the longest time, there was something being shared, but I was too far immersed in his eyes to decode it.

"Ah," He pulled back. "I should have just told you sooner, maybe things would have been different." Now, he was pitting the blame on himself; he just made it worse.

"Don't start that." I groaned. "You couldn't, you said it yourself. If I had waited, and let you explain— wait, how did you know I knew anyway? About your connections to the Volturi?" I had forgotten to ask that. I didn't know what I expected (some big secret exposed). But he just replied easily.

"I was walking back when Jas ran up to me, saying you had run away. I had no idea why or where, but when we got back to the house, I saw that journal open on the couch. And I knew you figured it out. It devastated me. I wanted to tell you, I was working out ways to do it before actually; when the thunderstorm hit I ran out to go find you.

"Even in the pouring rain, I still hoped, and searched. When I reached as far as you would have been able to go, I knew you had found that hole in The Wall; the kink in the armor. It frustrated me, because no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't follow you. I came back home, pouring wet. Em asked me what was wrong, but I couldn't find the words. But Jas just said 'she's gone' and left the room, as if he were telling him the time."

I suddenly wished I hadn't been as fast I was, and that Edward _had_ seen me in the underbrush. That he could have stopped and explained. But I hadn't let him.

"It's not your fault; I know it's mine." I hung my head. Edward wasn't stupid, even he could see it was my fault.

"Well, I won't let you take the blame. I'm taking this one, whether you like it or not."

"But…why?" I asked, stunned by his boldness (really, I should be past that by now), usually people would see it was my fault and move on, knowing I was to blame. But he refused to…why?

"Because I love you."

He said it so casually, so offhandedly, so naturally; it hit me harder than if he had said it intensely. He wouldn't stop telling me that, he brought it up every few seconds; somehow that made it even better.

Something inside me broke; a wall, a dam, _something_, because now I was flooded with the emotions I was putting off.

Love, filled me completely, like water in a bag; I heard the clinking of the iron shackles, and I discovered I had unknowingly been leaning toward him, my body trying to break these bonds. I had a burning desire, to be freed from these chains. To touch him, stroke his face, hold his hand, a brush of the fingertips, _anything_. I felt so restrained, I felt I would drown in it. My heart swelled up as I repeated the words in my head. _I love him, he loves me_. The feeling was beyond that of any drug.

But something else, close to love, but different in a significant way, filled me as well; _desire_. A much less innocent feeling, it was primal, animalistic. I _wanted_ him. But I choked it back; for if I wallowed in it for too long, it surely _would_ kill me.

Also anger; pure loathing toward the Volturi, and myself. The Volturi, for keeping me bound like this, for condemning us (him), to an undeserved death; and me, for starting this whole chain of events in the first place. If I had talked it out with him, and this love we shared had come out sooner, we could have been (dare I say) _happy_.

I clenched and unclenched my fists in blind rage beyond that of this universe, while Edward just hung there, in bliss. I wish I could immerse myself in the positive emotions, and not harbor this anger. In some ways, I wished to be more like him, for this anger would get me nowhere.

"What's wrong?" His eyes were suddenly, I could see in his gaze, he could truly see any reason not to be in high spirits— and I was, ecstatic. But the anger still boiled beneath the surface.

"Can you honestly say you don't even feel the slightest bit…livid?" I choked back a nervous laugh. "I mean, nothing's going to change, we're still going to die." I breathed, fighting tears.

He grew aged, an understanding look. "A little; but at least we know how we feel about each other." The word 'we' still made my heart flutter. "In a way, I'm glad we got caught before our voices fell silent."

"_What_?" I questioned.

"It shows we're different, still human, that we're not like them."

I thought about it, and he was right. Being here was a good sign, like his mother said. Automatically, at the thought of her, my heart ached, and guilt washed over me, for forgetting of her for even a little while. We hadn't played into their game, none of us did. He had his mother's rebel spirit— I saw her in him. Her soul, her fighting spirit, her ability to subdue my fears, and my doubts.

"Love you." He said one more time, more jokingly than before; the words went into me like a broom, sweeping away all of my worries, even just for a second.

"Right back at you." I replied jokingly; he laughed too.

The moment was comfortable— beautiful really. The feeling of loving and being loved in return was something no words can express. It was a feeling from the soul. Suddenly this torturous room didn't seem so bad. Our future wasn't so bleak; not even death could dampen this moment.

Until the giant, heavy door, creaked open, and dark, menacing silhouette stood in its way.

… **Expectations met? Satisfactory? Did I screw up big time?  
**

**If you can bear to, review for the rest of the teaser:**

"_**You know Edward," Peter started. "Aro was going to let you out, regardless." His eyes bored into Edward's. Edward's face grew dismal.**_

_**"I figured so." Edward said grimly.**_

_**"What?" I asked, phrasing the question that was in everyone else's mind. Peter turned to us.**_

_**"Typically, it takes weeks, even months for a member to choose a wife. Searching for the best genetics, and the Volturi usually let's them take their time. The Core can stand for quite awhile without all its members." Peter said, more to Edward than anyone. "What still confuses me is the deadline they set."**_

_**A deadline? Why would they set a deadline?**_

_**"Yes, they set a very strict deadline, so I didn't have time to think. They wanted us wed as soon as possible." Edward murmured, deep in thought. This conversation confused everyone.**_


	22. Chapter 21

**Okay so I lied…THIS Chapter has what you've all been asking for since day one… enjoy.**

**Chapter 21**

The light spilled in behind the figure shot into my eyes, causing me to close to my eyes; I imagined a terrible, bloodthirsty Hawk coming to kill us in some creative and painful way. But I felt small, familiar hands cupping my face.

Edward was uncharacteristically quiet, and when I saw who it was, I knew why.

Alice stood before me, with an apologetic look in her face, with light of relief and care in her eyes. How did she get here? I questioned her with my eyes, unable to get the words out.

"I'm sorry for not believing you before." She hugged me, a hug filled with so much sorrow and loyalty, my middle was being crushed by her tiny arms. I was still in too much shock to do anything but let her hug me.

"How did you escape?" I sputtered, lost in my own confusion. Her eyes grew solemn.

She dropped my gaze guiltily, fumbling with my chains with a key in hand.

I turned my eyes to Edward, and his eyes were glued to her, like he was concentrating on something very intensely. Like she was a math problem, needing to be solved. He continued studying her; their eyes met. Her gaze was nervous, as if she knew precisely what he was looking for, what she was trying to hide.

"Lucinda," He said softly, still investigating her. How did he—? "You're Lucinda's daughter aren't you? The one she tried to keep a secret." He asked so quietly, it came out as if he were talking to himself.

"Yes." She replied strongly. "Got a problem with that, pretty boy?" She spat.

My eyes darted between the two of them. How in the world did Edward know Lucinda? The gears clicked together in my head, and suddenly, it all made sense.

Lucinda was an agent for the women side.

Why Lucinda would sometimes bring Alice over to spend the night as a 'surprise', why Lucinda would send Alice to play with me when she saw a Hawk nearby, why she insisted to some people we were sisters, suddenly became clear to me. I thought she was kidding, and trying to express how ridiculously close we were. No, she was keeping Alice's existence as her daughter a secret. But, why?

Alice still kept her eyes deliberately away from mine, and for a good reason.

"How come I'm just finding this out—are you part of the Volturi too?" My head spun; I was finding out everything around wasn't as it seemed. Was nothing sacred?

"Not me," She bit back defensively. "My mother; she didn't want me involved in something as dangerous and binding." Oh, that made sense. By the look in Edward's eye, I could tell he approved, and that Lucinda was right.

Still, all things considered, I couldn't fight the sting of betrayal that shot up my spine.

"I'm sorry, Bellarella; can you forgive me for not telling you?" I broke down inside at the sound of my old, childhood nickname. It brought back memories, of a simpler, less complicated time. I felt the passive flash of embarrassment for having Edward heard that.

"Sure." I rolled my eyes at her unnecessary remorse.

Suddenly—beautifully, magnificently— the chains binding my hands to the unforgiving wall released my limbs. My feet hit the floor, and I staggered under my own weight; before I had time to steady myself, Alice's strong as steel arms were around my torso, squeezing the life out of me.

I hadn't known what I had expected from her, if I ever saw her again, but it was along the lines of resentment and disappointment— the vibe I'd been receiving quite abundantly lately.

She reached up to unlock Edward's chains, but not before throwing a questioning glance my way, silently asking me if it was okay to let him go. I nodded, then he fell to the ground.

"So how exactly did you escape?" I asked Alice.

"My mother snuck in and unlocked me. She told me to get as far away as possible as fast as my legs could carry me." She replied casually, as if her orders were clearly arbitrary. Same old Alice.

"You didn't listen." I knew it wasn't a question, but I had to confirm it. She answered me with a sly, crooked grin as she helped pull the shackles off Edward's arms.

"Come on." She said quickly, walking in front of us, leading us out.

I started to follow obediently, but Edward's hand locked around my wrist, and I was twisted around.

My eyes were wide with surprise, as a strange feeling passed through me, shock, but in a warm and fuzzy way.

Our eyes connected for an endless moment, and Alice, our surroundings, everything, was forgotten. As insignificant as dust motes in the sunlight. His hand moved from my wrist to clasp my hand— I thought I felt him take my other one too, but I couldn't remember, really, I was so caught up in the moment.

I only registered that we were getting closer; no longer at arms' length, we were inches apart. I vaguely recalled my feet shuffling closer, but that was blurry in my memory as well. It felt like a floating sensation.

Suddenly, he pressed his lips to mine.

Kisses were only things I'd only just started to discover could be an expression of love, through literature. That thought never occurred to me before in my life. Kisses were usually light and on the cheeks, as a greeting to others. Never anything like _this_. This had its own greatness to it, its own caliber; it made me angry they dare call those pathetic pecks exchanged between acquaintances 'kisses'. These two things were completely different.

I'd only distantly imagined what a kiss would be like, but when I tried to think about what to do, I always got confused. It seemed to me that it would be awkward. I had no idea to how to move my lips, and that they would move so naturally. So I gave up on that mission before it had a chance to live.

But some strange, miraculous way, my lips had taken over the wheel so I wouldn't have to think about it. Apparently, his did too. Our lips were together, in a wonderful dance, I'd never thought I had the capacity to do. They were soft against my own, and warm.

And I was passively pleased that I felt no gooiness, like I felt due to the sticky residue of my mother's friend's lipstick. I would always have to rub my cheek violently to get the lip mark off after one of their deadly pecks. But the lipstick was strong, and I would always end up having one big red cheek, with a faint shadow of the kiss, while the other was normal.

My lips were on fire, electricity coursed through me, like I was holding onto a bolt of lightning. My body echoed a yearning so deep and so powerful, it shocked me; it was so primal, so savage-like. I felt like if I didn't get closer to him, I would explode; and since he was reacting the same way I was, it felt like he would too, which only fed my fire. My lips were hungry for him, wanting to taste him. I would have been content to stay in that moment forever.

"Ew," I heard Alice's high pitched, voice call from the doorway, "You two have _excellent_ timing, you know that? Maybe this could take place at a time when, oh I don't know, our lives _aren't_ at stake. Yeah, let's wait for that." She said with a sarcastic sting; I could practically her eyes rolling in her skull.

When I pulled away, I looked guiltily over my shoulder at her. She gave me a 'what are you _doing_?' look, as if this was the very last thing she would expect me to do at a time like this. And she was probably right.

Edward and I exchanged sheepish looks; he was clearly not used to Alice's wrath, whilst I was still afraid of it. Yet underneath that, absolute glee radiated from him.

We followed her to the lit doorway. When we rounded the corner, I saw Jasper and Emmett leaning against the wall, looking alertly in all directions, ready to run at the drop of a pin.

"Oh yay, she's back." Jasper snarked. I was about to feel hurt, because I thought he had been talking about me, when I saw his eyes were fixated on Alice. Uh oh. He'd found a new chew toy. I feared for her for a fraction of a second, but then I remembered: she's Alice.

"Well everyone's following me, so we can easily leave you alone to die, if that's what you want." She finished with an innocent smile at Jasper. Her voice carried an equal amount of venom as he had; I had anticipated a quick, witty, hurtful remark back from him.

But what happened was astonishing; he lowered his head, glowering, and grew quiet—something I'd never thought any human would ever see.

My jaw dropped, and I saw Edward's drop too in my peripheral vision. We both stared in awe at Alice's intimidating glare she was beating Jasper down with.

Somehow, she wasn't afraid of him, like I was. Wasn't hurt by him, like I so easily was. Didn't see him as a bully, like I did. He was merely a bug to her; like all people like him were to her. I should have known— should have suspected her feelings wouldn't be so easily hurt.

"So," Edward broke the silence. "What's the plan?" Everyone's eyes shifted to Alice. It took her a few seconds to register everyone was looking to her for answers. Her eyebrow cocked and looked suspiciously and unknowingly at our gazes.

"Oh," She realized, and then grimaced. "Hm…" She pressed her finger to her chin, thinking. "We run like hell, and hope we get out with all our limbs." Everyone let out a collective groan.

"How long did it take you to think of that genius plan?" Jasper spat, refusing to be taken down so effortlessly. A sneer broke out across her face, and without turning, she threw his comment right back at him.

"About as much time as it took you to stop bawling." She took a sagging posture and pressed her hands to her face and started to sniffle. "_Oh why am I here? I didn't do anything, I'm a good boy! Poor me!"_ She rolled her eyes and she finished her imitation.

Edward and I both had to cover our mouths to keep from giggling a little. Jasper was beat red, but was silent in defeat and frustration. You could tell he was looking for an angle to argue from, but she had left him none, just like the little demon usually did.

"You cried?" Edward chuckled, obviously trying to focus on the humor for a few seconds, ignoring the impending doom we were to face; Jasper's angry face grew into an expression of absolute loathing.

Emmett even chuckled quietly to himself throughout all this. I threw my arm around Emmett's shoulder and gave him a quick hug/squeeze.

Edward took his hand in mine again, and held me by his side.

The laughter stopped, and his brothers stared at us, at how casually we touched. Jasper was staring at us as if we announced that we weren't human; Emmett was different, he had a warmer look to him (but he was still as confused as Jasper).

Alice rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest as if this news was so old, it was ancient; but I could still see a bit of discomfort in her eyes by the unfamiliarity of the situation. She was watching something only heard of in old legends unfold, as if it were unreal. I couldn't blame her, it felt unreal myself.

"Actually," Alice started again; bringing the attention away from us to more important matters. Like, perhaps, ours very lives. "The plan is more elaborate than that. If the Lord of Pessimism over here wouldn't have spewed his toxic negativity, you all would have known that." She openly pointed at Jasper; he fumed even more by her actions.

"We weren't in there for very long, were we?" She asked Edward, ignoring Jasper as if he were a whining child.

"No, it only felt like one or two hours."

"The Volturi's headquarters is large, isn't it?" She questioned again; I sighed, not seeing where she was leading us on this road of pointless questions.

"Yes…"He replied, clearly thinking the same thing as I.

"Large enough that the outer rims of Hawks guarding the perimeter wouldn't have been alerted about what happened with the wedding being crashed and ruined thing, yet?" His face, which had been grim, lit up with joy, as mine did. Her plan had become clear.

"Yes! If we can make it, we can just get through and escape." He exclaimed; you could hear everyone exhale collectively. Finally, some kind of plan! "If we can move, being undetected, we could all but walk through the Hawks protecting the perimeter. We would then need to head southwest, cutting through the forest and some lakes for water; I have some friends in a village about a week's walk from here, and then…" He started muttering unintelligibly, forgetting our existence, and plotting our carefully every step of our journey.

"He means after we get out of the headquarters, we run like chickens with our heads cut off." I summed up his mumbling and strategizing to everyone; I felt it needed to be dumbed down a bit for everyone.

"_Oh_." Emmett sighed in comprehension. I gave him a small smile in return.

"So Edward," Jasper spoke up. "Where do we go from here? How are we supposed to go undetected?"

Edward's lips turned up in an eloquent grin. "We have a friend on the inside. He's scheduled to guard our cell." He said the last part in my direction.

"Who?" I asked; I hadn't known that any else in the Volturi could be trusted.

A dark shadow appeared on the wall opposite of the corner up ahead; I held back a gasp, and looked up at Edward. We were caught, it was over.

My eyes expressed that terror, but Edward's didn't; the smile stayed planted on his lips. He looked down at my terrified appearance, and rubbed my shoulder soothingly.

A Hawk rounded the corner, but not just any Hawk. The memory was blurry, but it was the one I saw Edward with in the forest when I first found out of his membership in the Volturi. He was dangerous in stature, his hair was brown and fell in front of his eyes; I noticed his eyes were hazel as he caught the sight of us. _Run_, my instincts ordered me, but Edward held me firmly in place.

However, instead of attacking, calling for backup, or anything, his cold stance melted, and a smile reached his eyes.

"Hello Peter," Edward greeted, sighing; "Didn't think you'd come." Everyone thawed out instantly at the recognition Edward had for this man.

"I see you didn't need my breaking out services today." He said with a joking light twinkled in his eye. I wanted to groan; all that worry for nothing. Even if Lucinda wasn't a member, we would have been broken out. Well, that a nice little slice of irony.

"Wait." I turned to Edward. "You knew we were going to be broken out all along?"

"Before you go calling me a liar again, I wasn't completely sure he would have been able to. They were sort of suspicious of our camaraderie. Plus I didn't want to get your hopes up then have us die." He had said this whole thing so calmly; it made me almost forget he was talking about our death.

"Oh." I nodded.

"You know Edward," Peter started. "Aro was going to let you out, regardless." His eyes bored into Edward's. Edward's face grew dismal.

"I figured so." Edward said grimly.

"_What_?" I asked, phrasing the question that was in everyone else's mind. Peter turned to us.

"Typically, it takes weeks, even months for a member to choose a wife. Searching for the best genetics, and the Volturi usually let's them take their time. The Core can stand for quite awhile without all its members." Peter said, more to Edward than anyone. "What still confuses me is the deadline they set."

A _deadline_? Why would they set a deadline?

"Yes, they set a very strict deadline, so I didn't have time to think. They wanted us wed as soon as possible." Edward murmured, deep in thought. This conversation confused everyone.

"They had just set the deadline, a week ago. Royce has been dead for five years. They weren't in any rush then, but now they are." Peter mused.

"So usually, a future member can take his time and choose his wife." I restated. With Aro, Marcus, and Caius as the heads of the Volturi, it seemed hard to imagine that they would be so desperate for anyone else. "But for some reason, they shortened that time frame. Why?"

"Maybe it was to get Edward in his position quicker." Peter offered, conversing with me now.

"What _is_ his position, exactly?" I asked.

"His position is supposed to be in charge of the military and combat division."

"Why would they want him there so badly? What's changed?" I asked, suspiciously. The thought of the Volturi being desperate for anything was frightening.

Everyone's eyes met, and we all exchanged a worried glance.

"We don't know." Peter said gloomily, and then came back with a sudden burst of enthusiasm. "But we're not sticking around long enough to find out. Follow my lead."

* * *

**The next chapter is the crescendo! Then after that… the Epilogue.**

**Review for the rest of the teaser:**

"_**Look out!" Jasper yelled. My head snapped up to see Aro pointing a small gun at me. Aro wasn't alright though; he was on the ground, writhing in pain, blood gushing from his stomach. I stared at the gun, flabbergasted; I remembered Edward said something about them being very deadly. But I had no time to move before I heard an earsplitting bang.**_

_**Shrieking, I cringed, waiting for the horrible pain that had been the source of all that howling before. But, there was so pain, no agony. But what I heard was even worse than my wildest imaginations could have conjured up.**_

_**Jasper's cry of pain, reverberated off the walls of the room. I looked up just in time to see him crumble to the floor right in front of me, in the path of the gun.**_


	23. Chapter 22

**All you're reviews are great! They always make me laugh and make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside! :)**

**Chapter 22**

The sound of iron shackles clanging against one another and footsteps, echoed through the hallways as we hung our heads; we had just cut through a crowd of Hawks. I had held my breath as Peter held onto the chain that connected all of our shackles like a leash.

_No one noticed, no one noticed, it's okay; stay in characte_r, the voice said in a cajoling way.

Peter's plan had been fairly simple; instead of sneaking around, why not go out in front of everyone? He was leading us out in a line, bounded by shackles on our wrists, telling anyone who questioned that he was transporting us to a different cell.

We hung our heads in shame as other Hawks snickered at our expense. Or at least, that was the act.

"Pick it up, scum!" Peter shouted from the front, yanking the chain forward. That meant "hurry up people are getting suspicious_"_.

We walked faster, trying to get into a less populated area.

We had been winding through corridors, some wide some narrow; weaving through crowds of Hawks, and passing by one or two at a time. Our destination was the outer rims, where we would lose the shackles and use Peter's and Edward's assumed higher rank to force the rookies to let us through.

Things had been going well until we reached the biggest room, filled with the most Hawks; we had more of a chance of being overthrown at that point. I saw Edward stiffen protectively in front of me.

Peter had told us, if we were called out, we had to run; I could do that now. Alice helped me as I had ripped off the bottom half of the skirt of my dress. It wouldn't look too suspicious, we concluded.

The prospect of possibly getting out alive was so invigorating, I sometimes forgot that we still weren't out of the woods.

I stared at my feet as the Hawks made a path for us. They did it hesitantly— suspiciously. They're gazes were measured, reading us; that made us even more nervous.

"Come on, vermin." Peter said a little too quickly and yanked the chain too desperately for it to look like innocent spitting upon. That meant "hurry up, but looked tormented doing it_"._

We could see the doorway now, leading to an empty hallway; we all started power walking toward it, breaking character a little.

A huge, bear-like Hawk stood in the doorway, and others started surrounding us. The man was fearful and powerful looking with his muscles and tattoos.

"Where are you going with those prisoners?" He asked in a deep, menacing way; his eyes probing each and every one of us.

"Transporting them to the torture chamber, sir." Oh _no_; he had said 'sir'. Peter was ranked under this man, and we were at his mercy.

"That's not your place." He growled, snatching the chain Peter held. "Who authorized their transportation?" He questioned, his face coming within inches of Peter's.

Peter's eyes widened, his hand raised up slowly, unseen by the man.

He was ready to yank the chain hanging that would release us all at once. He was about to push the man aside so we could get a head start. It was all in vain though. We weren't going to make it.

I spread my legs, waiting to take off running for the dark corridor; blood pulsed through my veins like a speeding river, and adrenaline pumped—

A deafening siren screeched through the room, interrupting our mangling.

Mystically, the attention was snapped away from us and toward the siren. The man let go of the chain, and followed by the other Hawks, ran through a side door screaming at his troops.

The Hawks had just…left us alone.

All of our eyes widened and our jaws dropped at the now empty doorway; we were alone in the room. What had just happened? My eyes whipped to Edward's looking for answers. What could have possibly been so important that they would forget about us completely in a split second?

Edward's face was a mix of relief, shock, and slight horror.

"Edward, what's going on?" I asked, my eyes going between he and Peter, who seemed to know exactly what was happening.

He slowly turned his head toward me, and our eyes met. It seemed to take him a few seconds to find his voice, but he finally did.

"The headquarters is under attack." He uttered, quietly.

"Who would attack this place?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowing together; who would possibly be strong enough (or insane enough) to try and attack the Volturi headquarters?

Peter and Edward exchanged a glance, and Edward answered. "I don't know. It buys us some time, but not a lot of it. No matter what's attacking, it won't take long to take out whoever is dumb enough to mount an attack on the headquarters."

"But," Alice popped up. "That means that _all_ the Hawks will be at the perimeter, we won't be able to sneak through!" The truth of her words simmered amongst us, and Peter let out a groan of frustration.

"Well who knows when we will have an opportunity like this again? There must be some useful way to embrace this time!" Peter snarled in aggravation, starting to pace.

There were sounds of cannon fire outside, screams of terror, and things falling over; the clashing of steel, boulders, and flesh. And suddenly, what frightened me the most, a shower of loud pops; I covered my ears. What was this? What could have made those sounds?

"Edward, what _is_ that?" I shouted; his face was bone white and he stared unseeingly through the blackened door.

"Guns." He murmured, still staring. "They don't use those unless they're absolutely desperate." He seemed completely shocked that they would use those. What could make them so desperate to need to use these…these _guns_?

"What are those? Why haven't we ever heard of them?" Alice yelled, covering her ears as well.

Peter yelled over the sound of the guns outside. "Guns are very, very deadly, they use them as a last resort because the last thing they want is to give that kind of firepower to public; use of guns would give the Resistance the strength to rebel."

"There's a _resistance_?" I screeched. "How are you sure?"

"We aren't," Edward replied/screamed back. "We just always have to assume that there is one."

Hundreds of footsteps that sounded like an earthquake reverberated off the tall walls like they were coming closer to the door that which the Hawks had entered. Whether it was the attackers or the Hawks returning, we didn't want to be here. We all exchanged a look, a silent message passed over us. No matter who came through that way, the last thing we wanted was to be here to find out.

We all ran for the original doorway we were heading for, on the wall next to the wall that held the approaching army; the darkness swallowed us, but we never slowed down. Peter let out our shackles down in mid-run, and we took off.

Screams sounded in the room we had just been in, screams of death.

We all sped up our escape. The stupid shoes the wives put me in prevented me from going too fast. Edward seemed to realize this. His hand wrapped around my forearm and dragged me at his frighteningly fast pace. While I was trying to keep up with him, I was ripping off my shoes, which was harder than it sounded. I was blindly fumbling around, trying to get the straps off.

After about five seconds of this, he just picked me up and carried me, but I only allowed it long enough for me to get my shoes off. When they were off, I threw them behind us and jumped down, still barely able to keep pace. I shivered as the cold stones hit my feet, the jags in the rocks scraped at my skin; eventually, my feet were going to be too cut to run anymore. I prayed we would get off these rocks soon and run on something smoother.

A small, teeny, tiny, needle point of light appeared in my vision, and got bigger. Grasping Edward's hand, we ran straight for it. Peter urged for Alice to go faster, for _she_ hadn't spent days in the forest, going nonstop like I had, building up strength.

Surprisingly, Jasper was the one to help her, to coax her along. I passively wondered what that was about.

The light came up on us, and we burst through the door—

— And ended up in the worst place conceivable.

Every single member of the Core was there, alone, with no Hawks to guard them in that huge room. But something was different. Aro wasn't his usual calm, collected self as I had sensed; he no longer had the silent deadliness in his stare. His eyes were wild and held a certain anxiety that chilled me to the bone.

"You." He snarled, and pointed to us— wait no, not us; _me_. "You brought this upon us!" He screamed, at me. Everyone except Edward stepped away from me an inch. Edward took a step closer to me, moving his arm protectively in front of me, as if he could do anything about Aro's wrath.

"What?" I shrieked at him, not bothering with the respect thing anymore; what did _I_ do? Besides break his rules? I was just a bug, dealt with quite simply.

"You did this." He pointed at me once more, Edward shifted uncomfortably, obviously as confused as I was. The other members of the Volturi stood strong and dangerous behind him, livid.

"She didn't do anything," Edward shouted back at him. "You brought this…whatever this is on yourselves." He was standing completely in front of me now, blocking me from his sight.

"She did this." He murmured to himself.

He had lost it; his mind was gone. He started trembling and he clawed at his already thinning hair. The thought of his perfect world in the Core was being violated and he couldn't take it. But how could he think_ I_ did this?

Suddenly, a crowd of troops broke through the doorway we had come in. Thinking we were going to be taken away, I clutched onto Edward and shut my eyes.

In spite of my fears, they went around us as if we were merely a rock in the middle of a rushing river. And they weren't Hawks either.

They were men; just plain men from the villages ran in with pitchforks, torches, and something unfamiliar. Someone shot it off, and I recognized them as guns. They were make-shift and homemade, but still guns. It wasn't just an attack; it was something much bigger.

A familiar face— or a few familiar faces— popped up, and appeared to be leading the crowd. I gasped.

"Jacob!" I shouted, frantic for him to hear me; his head whipped up, and he smiled a regarding smile to me. He nodded to me and shouted something to the men, telling them to go around. I saw it now. He was their leader.

It all fell into place. I _had_ caused this. Just, unintentionally.

My crossing The Wall had started something much bigger than me, and going out and exposing myself to the group of boys had started the clock on a time bomb. I had thrown a stone that turned into a ripple to a tidal wave.

I had started The Rebellion.

After the troops rushed in, a horde of Hawks had come in after; they, however, didn't run around us like the others. They ran straight for us. Edward grabbed my hand and all five of us ran onto our side of the battle. Already, we were a part of The Rebellion.

Somehow in the crowd of people fighting, Edward and I got ripped apart. I twisted anxiously, looking for him in the crowd, and coming up empty.

Horror overtook me; _no!_ I anxiously searched for him, but he was lost in the crowd. I turned and ran, trying to escape the battle that had broken out.

For the third time, I slammed into something. Big.

This room was special. That was why the Volturi collected here; one of the walls was The Wall itself. They had built this room up against The Wall. I knew this because the pattern was the same I'd seen all my life, and was different from the other walls of the giant room.

I whipped around searching for Edward, or Alice, or Peter, or _someone._ But all I could see was the clashing of swords and hear the sound of gun fire. But there was lots of blood— lots and lots of it. Screams of pain, blood curdling screams; I clasped my hands over my ears, wanting to disappear into a bubble. Without the bloodshed. But I couldn't block out the sounds of death.

I placed my hands on The Wall and traveled along it; trying to find where the other wall connected, to sit in the corner and rot. But there was too much chaos, too much death.

"Edward!" I tried to shout over the crowd, but my voice was lost in the ghastly madness of it all.

A flash of silver caught my eye. A randomly placed steel square was bolted to The Wall amongst the stone; confusion danced in the back of my mind as I stared at it.

I could feel the voice's anxiety grow at the sight of it; it got rowdy in my head.

_That's it_, it whispered. _That's it!_ It shrieked in my head.

_What is it? It's just steel_. I argued with it, not comprehending why such an insignificant square was so important.

The sound a gun going off close to my head brought me out of my reverie; I yelped and covered my skull.

It never hit me, but I saw the steel square explode as it was hit; I covered my eyes to keep from debris hitting my eyes.

I was going to die; that much was for sure. In the heat of battle, I would die one way or another; I accepted that fact. But, something inside me (the voice) urged me to investigate just exactly what was so important about that steel square.

When I reached where the steel square had once been, I realized it wasn't the square itself that special. My heart-shaped necklace burned against my chest with the power of a white hot inferno.

It was what was _behind_ the square that was most crucial of all.

It explained everything my father had been talking about in his journal, the necklaces purpose, and just _who_ the voice was.

_When you are faced with adversity, make sure to put the pieces together, Bella. _My father's voice spoke.

The same voice that had aggravated me, comforted me, and made me question my own sanity all this time had been my father. My father had caused me so much exasperation since his voice had haunted my mind; yet, I wouldn't be here without it.

Behind the square was a crater. A crater very intricately cut to be in the shape of a heart, the same size, and design as my necklace; as if it were made to be put in, like a _puzzle piece_. I numbly picked up my necklace and stared at it.

_It couldn't be_…I thought_. It's not possible_.

Yet, as soon as I thought the words, I knew it was; I knew that was the key, the last missing piece of the puzzle.

"Put the pieces together…" I muttered, as I slid my heart necklace into the hole in The Wall.

My necklace fit perfectly into the hole; I had to shove it in there to get it to go all the way in though. As soon as it was in, there was the strangest sound, even stranger than guns.

The sound of turning gears, a deep rumbling sound from within The Wall echoed off the walls.

A single, tiny, pebble fell into my upturned palm from above.

My eyes went to the enormous window that showed The Wall as it stretched into the horizon.

The Wall had always been an invincible, timeless, stagnant figure to me; while the world around it changed, it and everything it represented was unchanged. It was powerful, and as part of the world as trees and grass were. I learned that wasn't true.

My crossing The Wall had given a window of opportunity to the men of the other side; they launched an attack on the headquarters. My father had always intended for me to defy the law, to go against the current. He had given this to me, to destroy everything that was the source to the Volturi's power.

In the distance, I saw something I never thought could happen; all the fighting ceased as everyone watched.

Unbelievably, The Wall started to fall to the earth.

It started on the horizon, slowly, like a domino effect; The Wall was falling in a flurry of dust and dirt. I stood absolutely frozen_. I had done this_.

"It's not possible." I whispered, staring unseeingly at the tumbling rocks. "It's not possible!" I cried, cradling myself.

"It's going down!" Someone shouted, and that broke everyone's frozen state. People started shouting and running for the exits; I couldn't move. I couldn't find the strength in me to move from my place.

"You did this!" Aro, who was all but forgotten in my mind, bellowed at me from a distance. My mind drowned him out as I watching the result of my actions. As far as I could see, we were the only two left in the entire room.

"Look out!" Jasper yelled, shocking me. My head snapped up to see Aro pointing a small gun at me. Aro wasn't alright though; he was on the ground, writhing in pain, blood gushing from his stomach. I stared at the gun, flabbergasted; I remembered Edward said something about them being very deadly. But I had no time to move before I heard an earsplitting _bang_.

Shrieking, I cringed, waiting for the horrible pain that had been the source of all that howling before. But, there was no pain, no agony. But what I heard was even worse than my wildest imaginations could have conjured up.

Jasper's cry of pain, reverberated off the walls of the room. I looked up just in time to see him crumble to the floor right in front of me, in the path of the gun.

I was frozen. Jasper had _saved_ me. Why? Panic overtook me.

I ran over to him, and crumbled next to him, picking up his head and cradling it in my arms; his face was bone white and cold. He was looking up at me with the weirdest emotion in his eyes—remorse?

"I'm sorry." He whispered hoarsely.

I stared at him, completely astounded. "What? Why?" I asked, feeling tears welling up in my eyes.

"My brother loves you—take care of him for me, please." He coughed, and squeezed his eyes in pain.

Tears blurred my vision. "No. No, Jasper, don't do this! You'll be alright." I said, panic in my voice. I tried to lift him up, so we could get out of here.

"Bella," He said, his voice barely above a whisper. "There's no time. Go. At least I'll die, knowing I made up for being such an ass." He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

This was impossible. Jasper hated me—he'd always hated me. Was that why he did this? Redemption? No. Not as I breathed would I leave Jasper here to die. I would never do that to Edward; but also, I had grown attached to him too in some strange way. I wasn't going to let him die on me.

"I'm not leaving you here; you better get up, before I start carrying you." I shoved my arm under his shoulder, and helped lift him up. He seethed as my hand grazed his wound.

He looked at me inscrutably; what was that his eyes held—awe? Pride?

He slung his arm over my shoulders and we started to hobble towards the exit, going excruciatingly slowly while the building collapsed around us. We would be crushed if we didn't go faster.

I gripped Jasper and hobbled us farther and farther away from the dying wall.

Breaking into the outside, we both ran (or limped) into the forest, frantic to get away from the falling structure. I got a glimpse of Edward. He was searching for something in the crowd, hanging onto a branch on a tree by one hand to get a better view.

"Edward!" I yelled, in elation; he whipped around to me, relief coming into his eyes. The rumbling got more powerful, and I suddenly feared we wouldn't get away in time. Edward's eyes widened in horror as he saw Jasper's state. He ran toward us, and quickly grabbed Jasper, and suddenly, we were almost running.

We all reached the top of the hill; Jasper collapsed on the ground, gripping his shoulder in agony. In the distance, we spotted Peter. Peter saw Jasper and ran over to us; thankfully he had a first aid kit.

Edward and I numbly left Peter and Jasper to themselves. Edward wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close; he quickly turned me around, and I saw what everyone was watching.

We observed as The Wall fell to the ground, buckling under its own weight.

The sight of the symbol of everything stable (and evil) in life, crumbling, was a sight that came only once in a lifetime—no, once in a millennia. Real life stories didn't have happy endings like this; it just wasn't so. And yet, this one did. Good had actually overpowered Evil this time.

I wouldn't learn until later that the Fall of The Wall meant so much more than a mere tumbling of rocks. It represented to ending of a dictatorship, and the beginning of a new era. An era that had once been lost.

***Tears welling up* Does it all make sense now, guys?**

**Review for the rest of the teaser:**

_**She would always be my mother, and I would always love her – I couldn't change that; I finally understood her pain. Why she reacted such a way, and acted toward me; I understood it, but I didn't agree with it.**_

_**She despised that I left her; that I had gotten married and was going to have a family of my own. She had hated me with a passion, for now, she truly had no one.**_

_**Then, later on, I had a thought. Perhaps, I could ease her pain, and give a peace offering.**_

_**This morning, I had come to her front door (my old front door), with my father's journal clutched in my tight hands. She needed to understand, to know. I had handed it to her, and told her she just needed to read and that it was from Dad; that had stopped her from kicking me out like last time when I came to get my things.**_


	24. Epilogue

**This is it!...the last chapter. I must say, I have really enjoyed writing this story—I've fallen in love with it (And sorry, you didn't get the teaser, I had absolutely no access to internet yesterday or today until now). So with a heavy heart, I ask you to read this chapter and then give me a review telling me everything you think/feel for this story!**

Epilogue

I planted my foot firmly on the wood of my old bedroom wall, gripping the yellow lace with both hands and tugged with all my might. I grinned to myself in satisfaction as I heard the sound of the fabric ripping and tearing. The curtains had come off easier than I thought.

I held the yellow lace curtains delicately in my hands and just stared as they lay limp.

I had been so weak back then, so naïve, so childish; I had let a mere piece of _fabric_ discourage me. I realized that I had liked my old curtains, the ones that were dark, for a deeper reason than I had speculated. I had liked the security, the enclosure; they had blocked out the truth, the cold reality, the _world_. I felt vulnerable without them; and the lace ones had let pieces of the world inside.

Well, no more.

I pushed open the window and let the warm sunlight hit my face and the cool breeze push my short hair back with its gentle touch.

I welcomed the world now; no longer did I keep it at bay with my juvenile endeavors.

Many good things had come with the Fall of The Wall; for instance, I could now watch the sun, at any time of day, instead of having it being blocked by The Wall for a portion of the day. But that just a small perk.

When I had crossed The Wall back then in Ole' Rust, and talked to Jacob openly, I had started something. He and his friends were connected to a secret, underground, resistance that had stations at almost every village on the male side.

After seeing that the Volturi was not all powerful, and that deception was possible, he told the Resistance. They saw a window of opportunity, a kink in the armor, and attacked. We were grateful, for without it, we would be in a much worse place than now. The Resistance had given us just enough leeway to escape; and not only that, but achieve the impossible. That word 'impossible' seemed almost like a joke now. It meant nothing, for we kept defying its limits time and time again.

The Volturi had wanted Edward to get into his position so he could take on the military and combat division and hopefully reign in the acts of rebellion that had popping up. The last year, as it turned out, had been riddled with rebellions and talk of revolution. The Resistance had been watching the Volturi headquarters' perimeter for a while.

They had planned to attack at the wedding and assassinate the Volturi members; their first priority being Edward, to make sure no one would take over the important position anytime soon. But my confession had halted their assault, and they went back to regroup and attacked later on. The troops were told to let us join their forces if we wished. Which we did, in mid-fight.

When The Wall crumbled, the whole system that the Volturi had constructed fell apart, like paper in water. Most Hawks were glad to fall right into a regular pattern of routine living; as it turned out, most had been victims of heavy control and brainwashing.

That first day after the Fall of The Wall, was one of the most chaotic I'd ever experienced. There was fear (mostly from my side, I was sorry to admit), anger, but most of all, happiness, relief, and elation.

Both sides did nothing for about an hour—just stared openly at the other side with mouths agape. Some fainted. I'm not just talking about from the women's side, either.

When the girls my age and younger saw how happily and joyfully the older women reacted, they went right along with it. They were, however, just a bit nervous (which was understandable).

But the week that followed wasn't a walk in the park. Some battles clashed between some die hard Hawks and Rebels, but soon enough, they realized that their time of reign was over.

To my (and Edward's) huge relief, Miss Garratt was perfectly fine; albeit disoriented and not in the best of health, but fine.

The scene between Edward and her, meeting once more after so long, was one right out of a storybook; there were so many tears of happiness between them, I ended up crying too. She had kissed his forehead, his cheeks, his hair, everywhere visible. I had never seen her so happy in her life. Such a light alit inside her, so powerful, it moved me to be eternally thankful that my father had been so inventive with a mere necklace.

Edward had been crying. I had been expecting that, but I didn't think the sight would bury itself so deeply in my heart. He collapsed like he was nothing more than a little boy, and she stroked his hair in a motherly way.

Eventually, I began to feel like I was intruding on the moment, so I left to go see Alice.

Although they still drove each other mad, a connection had spiked up between Alice and Jas (as it turned out, the bullet only went in his shoulder, and surgery remedied that quite quickly. Also, Alice seemed a little too eager to be his nurse); it was strange but I supposed Jas really did need a good dose of humility. He stopped throwing as many venomous comments at her (and me too), and acted like she was the only thing he wasn't allowed to be rude to. She was the only one who didn't receive his snarks.

I could tell she didn't despise him as much. One day, Edward asked what I thought of them. I answered honestly 'nothing'; I was blind then. Edward just cocked his eyebrow and laughed. Apparently he knew his brother better than I knew my best friend. Alice was glowing with joy; I'd never seen her so intellectually challenged before. But I think that might not have been all… She seemed to be able to understand Edward and my relationship with the more time she spends with Jas.

He still made those antagonistic comments toward me, though. It was different despite that fact. After making the comment, there was usually a teasing glint in his eye that showed it wasn't supposed to pack a punch. I finally understood Edward and Jas's relationship regardless of how I felt I the beginning.

Em liked girls; very much so. Well, one girl in particular. Strangely enough, the murderous wife named Rosalie had moved into his heart; I found out later that she _had_ murdered Royce. But because he forced sex upon her every night and she couldn't take it. I didn't blame her one bit. That coldness in her eyes significantly receded with the time she spent with Em. Ah, that boy was completely captivated by her very presence, and her his.

I got past the whole 'Jasper and Emmett' thing; after all that we'd been through, it seemed silly to say their full names when no else bothered to. I ended up referring them to as Jas and Em, as they should be called (I felt even more of an outsider, being the only one calling them by their full names). It was a nice feeling, to know I belonged to something; a family.

When I caught back up with Edward and his mother (who was now Esme, and she took back the name Cullen), we brought her back home to Carlisle. Edward was practically bouncing with excitement, it would have been funny if it wasn't such a serious moment; he acted like this was the best present he could ever give. Perhaps it was.

I was lucky enough to be there when Carlisle saw Esme, alive and well, maybe, _that_ was the best reunion I'd ever seen. His eyes lit up like they'd been dead for years; they embraced like they were kids again. There was so much love, so much affection, between them; I thought I would drown in it. It was moving to see that after so many years of brainwashing, separation, and longing, they still loved each other as much as they did before The Wall went up.

I still saw Peter from time to time— the man who had helped us so far along in our most distressed hour. He was in charge of the rebuilding effort; after the Fall of The Wall, the rubble didn't just disappear. He put together a group of hardworking people (and I saw people because a lot of women joined the rehabilitation effort), who are using the debris from The Wall to make new houses, to replace the ones that were destroyed in the initial annihilation of The Wall.

I'd been inquiring every so often if he had seen my necklace, but each time, he would just shake his head. I supposed it was stupid to want it back, to desire for its return; it probably got crushed to bits during The Wall's obliteration. Peter knew that too. But, aside the obvious, he has promised to return it if it was found. Somehow, though, my desire for its homecoming wasn't as strong as I predicted; it was destined to bring down The Wall, that's what it was made for. It has no purpose past that; something just made me feel almost okay that it was gone forever.

I thought of my father often. How he was the voice that inhabited my head for so long, his plans to have The Wall taken down, by his own daughter.

What puzzled me is how he knew that, somehow, I would defy the Volturi and full-fill his plan. I now know I was never meant to follow the rules and regulations of the Volturi. Perhaps my father was counting on that. They had tried to hide the spot for my necklace with a steel square, because if they filled it, it might have triggered the detonation process.

He no longer spoke to me, which made me wonder, if he was real at all. If he was really talking to me, coaxing me, leading me to my destiny and advising me whenever I strayed from the path. Or if he really _was_ a figment of my imagination; that somehow, I knew that I had something to accomplish, and my mind generated a voice to comfort me, because it knew I wouldn't be able to accomplish that without something to help me stand. I guessed some mysteries are meant to be left unsolved.

A few months after The Fall of The Wall, the number of marriages spiked up; The Wall had acted more like a dam than a wall, holding back years and years of potential merry, loving lives. Now that the restraint is gone, the love flowed freely.

I was proud to announce that one of the first of those weddings was my own; well _ours_. Luckily, there still were priests to wed people, that hadn't been lost to the Volturi. That had to absolutely be the best day of my life… so far.

This wedding was the one, we'd wanted. Not orchestrated by anyone by ourselves (except Alice and Lucinda), without any other motive but love; Alice and Lucinda made the dress, since wedding dress selling wasn't a business yet. I got little say in what it would look like, but it was for the best; Alice knew what would look great on me better than I did, to be honest.

Esme had warned me about cold feet. Apparently, way back in the day, some brides or grooms would get nervous about marriage and run away at the last minute. But no such feelings arose, thankfully. Plus, even if I had gotten cold feet, I would have been too afraid of Alice to act upon it.

I knew if I had tried to run, after all the effort and hard work she'd put into the wedding, she'd beat me with a stick and drag me by my hair back to the chapel. I could imagine her words exactly, '_how could you do this to me? This isn't about you anymore; this is _my_ wedding, now! If you don't get back there and forever join yourself to him, I swear_…'

Ah, lovely, sensible, level headed Alice.

On the day of the wedding, I couldn't help but feel a little nervous; Alice was my trooper as she held the bucket in which I threw up in. Twice. But she was very careful to scream at me each time for almost staining the wedding dress she'd made. "_You think you're sick?_" She'd said after I vomited for the last time. "_I'll give you something to be sick about if you so much as turn that shade of pearl white to cream white!"_ I couldn't see the difference in the two colors; but she clearly could, and I didn't want to chance it.

When I saw Edward waiting up there—for me— I knew that it was always meant to be like this. The Wall was always meant to go down; it was doomed from the start. I was supposed to be with him forever. No mere wall, no organization, nothing could stop the inevitable, could stop me from finding Edward, to stop us from finding each other.

I was now Mrs. Cullen; butterflies fluttered within me every time I thought of it. I was tied to Edward in a way no one else was, and that thought made my heart fill up to the brim to love. If I had known, back then, what love could feel like; if I had known for sure that it was real, I would have found a way to cross much earlier. Then again, my blindness of this journey had made the perfect outcome, one I wouldn't trade for anything. I wouldn't change anything on the path that led me here.

I had moved into his house (the one I had thought of as a shack in the beginning). It was more my home than this place ever was. I thankfully didn't have to sleep in the basement—Carlisle and Esme moved into Esme's house she'd had on her side. I never thought I'd be lucky enough to have the home I so dearly loved, to raise my family in. Jas and Em moved in with them; not surprisingly, Esme welcomed them with open arms. They all fell in love with each other quickly—even Jas and Em were suckers for Esme.

Though I told Edward he'd have to take the swords down and hide them when the baby came. He didn't see the point at first. Then Esme came by and explained all the safety hazards there were in the home, and she was so glad she'd came by; for if she hadn't, she said our baby would have decapitated, burned, stabbed, sliced, and broken itself by within the first week of its life.

Edward, in reaction to this news, has taken on the job of completely fixing up the house. The roof, repainting, taking down sharp objects—all that good stuff.

He really does work at the old hospital now; with the mixing of the races once more, hospitals would be a necessity more than it was before. I went up there a few times, and everyone was working like dogs each time, no matter what time of day.

They're juggling rebuilding the place, while training doctors, while getting equipment, while trying to handle a constant flow of patients. One thing that's been left unchanged is the knowledge that I couldn't do all that, that caring for the sick and injured was not my forte.

I'd never seen so many people so cheerful; this is the first time in my whole life, that everyone was happy.

Well…not quite everyone.

My mother wasn't happy; far from it. Ever since I was born, she had run from her pain of losing my father and sought power through controlling me. The Volturi had merely given her a reason to do it openly; and now that I'd broken free, and was no longer hurt by her, she had officially lost everything.

I didn't hate her— in fact I felt sorry for her. She was a pitiful creature, a childlike bully who hunted for solace in mentally abusing me.

She would always be my mother, and I would always love her – I couldn't change that; I finally understood her pain. Why she reacted such a way, and acted toward me; I understood it, but I didn't agree with it.

She despised that I left her; that I had gotten married and was going to have a family of my own. She had hated me with a passion, for now, she truly had no one.

Then, later on, I had a thought. Perhaps, I could ease her pain, and give a peace offering.

This morning, I had come to her front door (my old front door), with my father's journal clutched in my tight hands. She needed to understand, to know. I had handed it to her, and told her she just needed to read and that it was from Dad; that had stopped her from kicking me out like last time when I came to get my things.

She was still reading it now, as I ponder these things; while she read, I took the liberty of going upstairs and taking down the curtains.

Now, as I sat on my old windowsill, letting the autumn leaves fly into my old room, I drank in the scene.

This wasn't my home anymore. My home was with Edward. I didn't mean just the house, I mean wherever he was, was where I belonged. Instead of feeling a sting of pain, I thought I would, I felt a wave of jubilation. I was out of the real jail, the one that had held me hostage all these years.

The diamond on the ring finger on my left hand twinkled in the light of the setting sun; a small smile crawled across my face, as I watched it throw rainbows. I placed my hand over my now protruding stomach, feeling a tiny kick. A wave of warmth washed through me as I relished the feeling. _Yes_, I thought, _I would have my own family_.

I held both of my hands outside of the window, palms up; each hand containing the yellow lace curtains in them.

"Goodbye." I murmured as a whisper of wind picked them up and carried them away into the horizon. I watched my old self disappear into the setting sun with a half-hearted smile on my face.

The sound of the door creaking open was what brought me out of my trance; I turned around to see something so surreal, I almost didn't believe such a sight could be true.

My mother stood in the doorway, her eyes filled with sweet tears, with my father's journal in her hand; she was silent, she just stared at me with an expression so full of sorrow, so full of regret so full of love. I never thought that appearance was possible on her cold face. A face who had always been so stone-like, so resentful, was now the kindest, the sorriest face my eyes could lay on. Like that, all of my angst, antagonism, and resentment melted.

Moving from the windowsill, I ran to her, and embraced her in the hug she so desperately needed. She sobbed into my shoulder, like somehow; I was the mother now, caring for the child in her that never grew up. Providing her the love and affection she never gave, or received for that matter.

I had to let go eventually. No words were exchanged between us— no, it was deeper than that. An understanding. She sat down on my bed and sobbed to herself, burying her face in her hands, and I knew that was my cue to leave.

I carefully stepped through the hallway toward the stairs. I turned and saw that my mother's bedroom door was ajar; I smirked to myself.

_Oh no, not this again_. I laughed to myself. _Remember how much trouble that got you in last time?_ I carefully closed the door; and left my childhood behind me.

Finally, _everyone_ was happy.

Walking out of the house, down the stone path, I was too deep in thought to notice anything. Or to see that someone was standing there waiting for me at the small white gate.

I trotted straight into Edward, like the idiot I was, and almost fell over. He didn't so much as stumble against my weight, but that wasn't anything new; he steadied me with gentle hands, I sensed he was worried about the baby than me (which I was too).

My eyes went to his face— I hadn't expected anyone to be here waiting. I hadn't told anyone where I was going, I had just mentioned I was going out. I half anticipated him to be upset that I had been here. But, of course, he was the picture of cheer and serenity. The light from the setting sun made his face almost glow.

"What, how?" I stuttered. "How did you know I was here?" A half smile came into his eyes.

"I didn't know for sure, so I just took a good guess." He replied in a low, deliberate way; his eyebrows came down a bit as he stared at my face after a few seconds.

Cautiously he brought his thumb up to my cheek, and wiped it across my cheekbone. I had been mystified as to what he was doing, until I felt a rush of coldness on my cheek where he had wiped and a glistening wetness on his thumb.

I had been crying? How could something so fundamental slip my mind?

"Sorry." I wiped the back of my hand across my other cheek, banishing the senseless tears.

"Don't be." He muttered absently, looking at something over my head. Still looking over my head, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer to him. Bewildered, I went along with it. He leaned down and kissed my hair affectionately; not that I objected, I was just curious as to what brought on these tender gestures.

I looked over my shoulder to see what Edward had been looking at. My mother stood in the window, staring at us with an unreadable expression. I couldn't tell if she was happy to see me with my husband, or if she was angry, or even jealous— or all three? I glanced back up at Edward, still not comprehending his actions completely.

"She needed to see." He answered my unspoken question.

There were so many answers he had given me with such a simple phrase. That she needed to see that I was loved, and that I didn't need her. That she needed to see that I wasn't like her. That she needed to see that I was in love. That she needed to see me happy. They all said the same thing, but meant something different.

She had needed to see, that I moved on, that I wasn't going to be here to baby her. That she would have to do that on her own.

"Hi Mrs. S!" He waved over my head to my mother. I gasped and brought his hand down.

Mother scowled embarrassed and let the curtains fall back.

"Edward!" I whispered. I was trying so hard to be angry, to be worried that she would punish me. But now I was on an equal playing field as her. I could only laugh.

"What? She doesn't like me anyway." He shrugged.

"Well that makes two of us." I laughed.

"I want you to see something." He said, suddenly excited again. He took my hand in his and led me away from judging eyes, toward where The Wall used to be.

After a few minutes of scouring the border, he brought me to a huge pile of ruins that hadn't been picked up by the team of rebuilders.

He led me up the pile, I was about to grill him about leading me up this death trap while I was in my condition, but we reached the top before I could. I turned to him to chew him out, but he just pointed outwardly.

I saw what he meant. The setting sun had turned the world into a land of shadows and light, making it seem more mysterious and wonderful. The sun was setting over the horizon of the old male side, making that side illuminated while the women's side fell dark.

The contrast between the two sides was astounding; the difference was as evident as night and day (nice pun).

Yet, the sides were sort of similar. Although the cosmetic part was difference, the landscape, the dirt, the bodies, were symmetrical on both sides. Like both sides were canvases made out of the same fabric, but the pictures were just different. The connection ran deeper than appearances.

Edward leaned down to whisper in my ear, "We belong together." My smile grew to the biggest smile I'd ever had.

The way he said it, made it in a way that it wasn't just meant for us.

It meant that everyone belonged together; that meant that both sides were supposed to fit together like two pieces, not just us exclusively.

It occurred to me then; my father's inscription on my necklace had meant so much more than I had seen.

_Make sure to put the pieces together…_

This was what my father had meant. To put the races back together like puzzle pieces.

The realization lifted me so high up I thought my soul would fly; I hugged Edward's arm with so much strength, I heard him shift uncomfortably. But he hugged me back, not knowing the cause for the hug.

The future, for once, was bright; I had the man I loved on my arm, a child on the way, and I was surrounded by the people I loved most. And no one would be able to separate us; not even something as literal as a wall.

The sun was about to disappear completely as night crawled up the sky to take its turn; Edward took my hand and started to lead me back down the wreckage, and to our home. _Our_ home.

However, I didn't step down from the small mountain before a small sparkle glistened in the last rays of setting sunlight. A small, diamond shaped sparkle that was embedded in the middle of a stone that was strangely the shape of a heart with a chain around it, lay nestled between the rubble.

Either the light casted weird shadows to trick me, or the inscription on the back of my necklace was different than before. It may have been the hormones, but I suddenly felt cold, and I felt a presence; a familiar presence.

I read the new inscription in the necklace.

_Thank you_.

_For what?_ I wondered to myself. I felt the shivers of an invisible presence by my ear.

"For setting me free."

With that, my fathers' spirit disappeared in the horizon, and all traces that the necklace had held any message, fell away; leaving nothing but the smooth stone on the back, new warmth in my heart, and a clean slate for the bright and sunny tomorrow that was my life.

_**The End**_

***Tears* thank you all for finishing this story! This has truly been a gift, to get you guys' feedback; I love this story and you guys, you're some of the best readers I've ever had! Now, for the last time, please review telling me everything you've ever felt/thought about this story… I won't be able to feel the joy of you guys' review for a long time :'(**

**Love you guys, and keep reading!**

**-ihatejacob1**


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